Meant To Be
by Slayer Isis
Summary: Dean and Sam are investigating an old Egyptian curse in Chicago. They ask help from a childhood friend, Amy Cromwell. The three work together and uncover secrets that may change the path of their lives. Please read. COMPLETE.
1. Off to Illinois

Title: _Meant To Be_

Author: Slayer Isis

Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester find themselves in Illinois where research has led them to Chicago, following the leads of mysterious deaths involving women. A mysterious artifact leads Dean and Sam to an old friend who may be able to help. She, a professor at Northwestern University, becomes involved with this investigation. But not only are the three in search of this illusive killer, but new secrets are revealed that will ultimately change their paths in life. (I suck at summaries – please read.)

Rated: PG – PG-13

Theme: Romance/Action/Adventure/Angst/Supernatural (obviously)

Author's Note: I'm not completely familiar with the show. I don't remember where the first episode took place or other small details like that. If I happen to get a certain fact wrong, please correct me.

Feedback/reviews greatly appreciated.

O.O.O.O.O.

Chapter One

Off to Illinois

The black car sped down the deserted highway, the sound of the engine echoing through the air and music by the Rolling Stones blasting through the vehicle. The headlights carefully examined the road while the driver plainly paid attention to the invisible cars passing by. His brown eyes glazed over but a punch by his brother, sitting in the passenger seat, jolted him back to reality.

Sam, whose hands were now firmly gripped on the wheel, focused back on the road. In the seat opposite him, Dean sat quickly typing away at the laptop. Looking over for a second, Sam rolled his eyes at the skull sticker found on the cover of the laptop.

The Rolling Stones had ended and Sam was glad to find that the cassette was over. He secretly prayed that the next town they stopped at they could possibly install a CD player. Or even trade in the old car.

The sleeves of his brown jacket were slightly rolled up to above the wrists and Sam wore a navy blue T-shirt; his ensemble was finished with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Dean was dressed in denim jeans, a gray T-shirt and his favorite black leather jacket. His hazel eyes blinked back several times as he slowly stretched out his arms in front of him. His hand ran through his dirty blonde, spiked hair.

"Hey, you want to pull over? I can take over." Dean yawned. It was his own pathetic attempt to sound nice and take over the driving.

Sam smiled slowly. He recognized his brother's act and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good." He yawned slowly. "So, Chicago is definitely the destination, right?"

"The four women who were killed…yep…all in Chicago…Highway Two-ninety," Dean replied. "It's weird man-"

"Weirder than what we're used to?" Sam almost laughed. His brother smiled at him as Dean continued to search through articles and web pages.

"The women were found in these random places…old warehouse…abandoned factory…all done in secret. But we have reason to believe that our kinda strange is involved because of the markings carved into their skin…"

"The Egyptian hieroglyphs…" Sam finished. "Doesn't make sense. The only reason I have for going to Chicago to investigate is because of my gut. What else do we have to go on?"

The sound of his strong fingers pressing against the keyboard annoyed Sam. He wanted facts to take the time to go to Chicago. Although his feelings about certain things were growing day after day, he still wanted to make sure some type of monster or demon was in charge of this.

"All we have are the markings. It's strange, Sammy…"

_Sam_, Sam thought angrily. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair and sighed.

"All we have are the hieroglyphs…but these articles also mention this artifact found at the first killing. A piece of old parchment or paper found on the body of the first victim…Ancient Egyptian written across it…it hasn't been translated yet."

"My guess," Sam offered, "could be a possession…it's possible for an old Egyptian spirit to possess someone…maybe we have an angry spirit."

"We need to get our hands on that artifact…" Dean murmured. His face grew calm and gentle, eyes wondering about the future mission.

The two brothers looked straight ahead as night remained. To Sam's dismay, Dean changed a new cassette.

O.O.O.O.O.

_Cicero, Chicago_…

The woman couldn't help it. She continued to fight the invisible force that continued to press her down back onto the cold, wet floor. Her curly blonde hair flew around all sides of her face as she screamed and cried. Tears fell onto her yellow dress as she scrambled to remove herself away from the phantom wind, her small ankles gave in and she crashed onto the floor.

Her scream pierced the air but no one would come to help. She knew she was in the basement of her house – and she was all alone.

A man, in his early twenties, stood before the woman as the wind continually blew around her. His eyes were gray and sunken as if he had had no sleep for so long. He wore a white dress shirt and jeans and black dress shoes. His hair was jet black and his hands remained at his sides.

"That's enough," the man said, and instantly the wind grew faint and disappeared completely.

Pulling the hair away from her face, the woman stared into the eyes of the man and screamed. She scattered across the floor and moved against the wall with the single beige couch.

"I'm sorry, but it will be slow…" the man whispered.

"No…no…NOOO!" she begged.

The man stepped forward and began to mutter something under his breath. He chanted in this strange language that the woman could not understand. As he chanted, the woman felt so weak she couldn't even find the strength to stand. She crotched in the small corner of the white walls. Her fingers were clinging to her dress and tears were flowing more frequently.

Suddenly, the man was now in her face. She wasn't expecting him to move so fast on her and the woman opened her mouth to scream but the man placed his hand and covered her cry. His eyes glowed and a black light erupted from his pupils. The woman tried to scream and then the man placed a strong hand on the woman's chest. She tried to fight back but feeling in her arms disappeared and her body was now paralyzed. The woman's eyes were wide opened and a bright black glow formed underneath the man's hand onto the woman's chest. His lips moved slowly as he continued the Egyptian chant. The light from his hand disappeared and the black glow of his eyes went with it.

A small smile covered his lips and his free hand reached around his back pocket and he pulled a small Swiss army knife out.

The woman coughed and her eyes fluttered closed and opened. She wanted to scream again. She didn't know what was happening. She was so tired. So weak. Her body had feeling again. But before any noise could escape her lips, the man stood and waved his hand at her. She flew across the floor instantly and landed in the center. She moaned in pain and rolled on her side.

Her head looked up and the man was now on top of her. His hand cupped as if he was holding an invisible sphere. The woman's eyes grew in fear and shock when black smoke grew in his hand and turned into a sphere-like shape. He held the fiery black orb in his hand and he smiled as he pressed it into the woman's stomach. She screamed and her cry rang out through the basement. But just as her desperate cry ended, it was obvious now that the woman was dead. Her eyes were wide opened.

The knife he still held slowly made its way to her arms as he began to inscribe into the corpse's skin. As he did all this, he continued to mutter an Egyptian chant.

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: I know the description in the basement was LONG. Trust me, that'll be the only one. I just want to make sure I put in the details and people can imagine what just happened. Next chapter coming soon.


	2. The Artifact

Chapter Two

The Artifact

Dean and Sam arrived in Cicero around noon. They changed into fresh clothes and Sam waited patiently by the car as Dean paid for two cappuccinos in the Quik Trip. It was a relief to be in a big city now. They had usually worked with small towns and Sam enjoyed the sights of tall buildings and sky scrapers.

Sam, now dressed in a pair of fresh jeans and a black T-shirt, pulled his brown jacket back on as his brother came out. He had changed his shirt and jeans and Dean walked out with a more comfortable expression on his face. He handed the plastic cup to Sam and both brothers leaned against the car drinking their breakfast.

"I just gave a call to the police station that is holding the artifact," Dean explained and he took a long sip.

Sam nodded and asked, "And?"

Dean sighed and said, "I told them we were reporters from the paper and we wanted to write an article about the murder."

"Everything okay, then?" Sam asked.

"Geez, chill dude," Dean snapped. "Everything is fine. No fake ID for this one. The commissioner is expecting us, actually, so yeah. He has arranged we meet with someone in charge of the evidence department."

"You know it happened again…last night…" Sam said slowly. His tone filled with sorrow and almost guilt. Dean looked at his brother and gave him his best comforting glance.

"We'll figure this out, c'mon," Dean said, patting his brother's back.

Sam opened the passenger side door and sat down as Dean closed the door for him.

Dean knew Sam had somewhat let go of Jessica's death. The nightmares had almost ceased, but then again Sam was good at pretending he was dreaming of something pleasant.

Tossing the plastic cup on the pavement, Dean walked around the car and opened the driver's side. Within moments, the car started and took off down the road.

O.O.O.O.O.

"So, you boys working with the paper?" Officer Jensen asked. He was a tall, lanky man with thin blonde hair. His outfit looked too large for him for it looked like five of his small arms combined could fill the sleeve.

Dean and Sam followed him down a corridor as the officer pulled out a set of keys in front of a door marked EVIDENCE.

"What are your names, again?" the officer asked.

"Oh, uh, I'm Jay and this is Bob…" Dean said perfectly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Hmm, sounds familiar…I probably have read some of your articles," Officer Jensen replied.

"Actually, we're new to the city and all," Sam replied.

"Chicago's a good place…minus the killins'…" Officer Jensen replied as the door opened before the three.

They stepped inside and the Winchester brothers noticed large shelves containing plastic tupperware.

Officer Jensen went to a nearby desk and he opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of white rubber gloves. He silently moved to another nearby desk with three tupperware boxes. He opened one of them and pulled out a large Ziploc bag and he turned around and walked over with it to Sam and Dean.

The officer carefully opened the bag and pulled out an old looking piece of orange-yellow-brown paper. He held it in both of his hands and held it out to Sam and Dean.

"The only thing we can find about the evidence is that it is made of very old papyrus…just like in Egyptian times…the writing can't be translated…I heard that either later this afternoon or tomorrow…this thing is going to be shipped to a nearby college soon for examination…"

"Fingerprints?" Sam asked.

He shook his hand and Officer Jensen said, "Nope. Clean. Even the bodies have been examined and we found nothing. The writing found here on this old paper…some of the same symbols are carved into the skin of the victims."

"Any leads?" Dean asked.

Officer Jensen sighed and said, "Nope. This case has got the detectives stumped. I swear…there's really a strange thing involved with this case…"

Dean and Sam exchanged a small glance and then both focused back on the piece of paper with the old writing on it.

"You said you're sending it to a college for examination?" Dean asked.

A small nod and a half-smile and Officer Jensen sighed, "Not sure exactly. We've been trying to contact colleges and universities in the area that may have professors who can translate or at least figure out any information. The curator from the museum in Cairo is flying here next week to help with the investigation."

"Oh," Sam offered, "this piece of evidence was from Cairo, Egypt?"

The officer looked up and nodded. "Yes. See, this old piece of papyrus was apparently going to be used in a show in one of the museums. It was reported stolen the moment it was found missing."

"Can you tell us when this artifact arrived from Egypt and when it was stolen?" inquired Dean.

"Three weeks ago exactly," Officer Jensen answered, "it was still in special security cargo when it was stolen. Christ, there's still a big controversy whether or not the department can keep this as evidence or if it goes back to the museum. Either way, when that curator from Cairo arrives, nothing will be decided."

Sam nodded and gave a warm smile. "Thank you for your time. Is there any way we can scan the evidence and make a copy on paper…for the magazine…?"

The room seemed to become tiny. Tension grew. Officer Jensen narrowed his eyes and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Dean took a step to the side and Sam watched his move carefully. He was praying that Dean wouldn't try to do anything stupid.

Before anything could be done, there was a knock behind the door.

Officer Jensen looked to the door and then back at Sam. He returned a courteous smile and said, "Sorry kid, can't let you have a copy. Here…you can look at if you like…excuse me…"

The piece of papyrus, carefully set on the plastic bag, was handed into Sam's hands and he took it carefully.

The officer smiled at both brothers and then walked behind them and disappeared behind the door to speak with someone.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Glad I could help, I look forward to reading that article," Officer Jensen called as he walked Dean and Sam stroll across the parking lot.

Dean waved behind him and his small grin turned into a sly smile as he and Sam stepped inside the car and closed the doors.

Sam gently reached inside his jacket and pulled out the artifact – the piece of papyrus.

Both smiled and Dean started the engine and turned out of parking lot.

O.O.O.O.O.

"'Kay, so…we have this ancient Egyptian paper…five victims…all with old symbols carved into their skin…no explanation for death except their hearts stopped…and the first victim was found with the artifact…"

Sam nodded and said, "We might have to visit one of the universities…talk with someone who might be able to help…"

Dean nodded as he drove. He took one hand off the wheel and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper from his pocket. He looked down for a moment and said, "Concordia University…Loyola University…which one…"

There was a look on Sam's face suddenly that made Dean narrow his eyes at him. His brother had a small secretive grin and for a moment he almost laughed; Dean continued to stare at Sam questionably and asked, "What…?"

"Northwestern University…" Sam answered. "We can get help there…"

"Northwestern…that works…by why there?" Dean asked.

Sam let out a small laugh and said, "Just a good feeling."

O.O.O.O.O.


	3. Professor Cromwell

Chapter Three

Professor Cromwell

_Evanston, Illinois…_

The smell of the cool wind and the sight of red, yellow and orange leaves proved to be a perfect autumn. Northwestern University was a beautiful structure and the campus was set with perfect-cut green grass and marble tables and benches. Students eagerly left or entered the building; some were seen sitting at the cold tables talking with friends and drinking coffees. A normal college life could be seen a mile away. The young adults smiled and laughed and others anxiously waited on friends by the large stone steps of the entrance.

It had only been yesterday when they had switched the artifact for a fake replica. Now, Dean and Sam, dressed in their regular attire – Sam in his brown jacket and Dean in leather – the two had parked the car a block away and walked toward the school along the sidewalk. Sam admired the building and setting around him. Across the street was a small outlet that had a book store, a coffee shop, and some type of dry cleaning-washing place. He missed the college life. It was a slight reminder that Sam had completely deserted the idea of law school. But he had a purpose. He was twenty-two-years-old and at this point in life Sam should have been thinking of what to look forward into the future.

All he had was now. The hunt.

His gently brown eyes gazed at the campus as he and Dean made their way across the grassy campus and toward the entrance. Sam had his eye on the university banner above them. Dean, however, was looking meticulously at several girls discussing something by the steps. His James Bond persona came out and Dean cracked a half-smile and winked at the girls. He could hear them giggle and see the red in their cheeks as the Winchester brothers walked up the entrance steps and stepped through two large mahogany doors.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Why are we here specifically?" Dean asked again. Sam had chosen this place and this place only for the beginning of their research.

"Told you," Sam explained easily, "I know someone who can help. A professor."

"Well I hope this professor isn't some old, annoying hag who suggests we go to the museum," Dean sighed. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as Sam opened the door of the main office.

O.O.O.O.O.

She looked to be in her mid-fifties and had auburn hair. Her glasses rested at the tip of her nose – they were rectangular shaped and had thick black frames. She was typing rather quickly at the keyboard and as Sam and Dean leaned over the cherry wood desk, her small green eyes looked upward and she smiled at the two.

"Good afternoon, boys," she squeaked. "New students?"

"Actually, we're looking for a friend of ours. Professor Cromwell," Sam asked.

At this, the old woman typed something into her computer and motioned she was searching.

Dean raised a curious eyebrow and turned to Sam. "Professor Cromwell…that sounds familiar…"

Sam didn't answer but instead smiled. It was the kind of smile Dean would give. Still confused, Dean thought for a second and slowly his eyes turned into a questionable glance.

"Cromwell…as in-"

"_Amy_ Cromwell…" Sam replied. "Professor of Art History."

"Amy Cromwell…" Dean repeated slowly. The name rolled off his tongue like a foreign word. It may have sounded weird to him, but Dean remembered perfectly who she was.

She had been his childhood friend. Dean had tortured her: pulled her hair, ripped the edges of her dress, and tried to convince her were monsters in the closest – of course, that had been before his mother's murder.

"My old partner in crime…" Dean muttered. "I haven't seen her since-"

"You skipped out after graduation," Sam finished. He shot Dean a somewhat hard glance.

Dean felt a pang of guilt. He had left immediately after high school to take care of the _family business_.

"I didn't know you kept in contact with her…" Dean said instead.

Sam sighed and stuck his hand into his back pocket. "She watched out for me after you left. She was like a big sister. Made sure I did my work in school and everything. Amy even became a tutor. I think I give her some credit for wanting to be a lawyer…she's been teaching here for about three years."

He nodded. Dean bit his lower lip and sighed. "Eight years…wow…doesn't feel that long…wow…Amy Cromwell…_Amy_…man…she and I set the world on fire-"

"Literally," Sam laughed.

Dean shot him a look and laughed as well. "Hey…we didn't know the Bunsen burner was that strong…besides, she saved Mr. Quentin from catching fire…"

The woman behind the desk was looking at them sharply when Dean and Sam turned to look at her. She smiled weakly and said, "She's giving a class right now. But it should be over with soon. I'll take you there…"

"Thank you," Sam said in an apologetic tone.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Professor Cromwell of Art History…" Dean murmured under his breath. He turned to Sam while they followed the old woman down the corridor. "Art history…how is she supposed to help? Art history…"

"Hey," Sam defended, "it's better to get information first from someone we know…she can help us in a better way than a stranger…also, Egyptian text is classified as art. If Amy knows something, she can help…"

"And if she doesn't?" Dean fought back. "I just don't want her to get involved…if she gets hurt…"

"We're not even sure what we're dealing with," Sam answered. "_We're_ not even involved in anything. Yet. If she doesn't know anything, she may know someone who can help."

They stopped talking once the woman stopped in front of two sets of black doors.

"These doors are at the top of the auditorium. Class gets out in about fifteen minutes," she whispered. She left the two there, her brown heels stomping against the wood floors.

Dean and Sam peered into the two doors through the small rectangular windows.

The classroom was the size of a movie theatre. The tows extended upward and there was a large screen before them. The lights were dim and a powerpoint presentation was set up. Students were taking notes on their laptops and they busily typed facts and information.

They were able to make out the small figure standing in front of the class discussing the image on the screen. There was a large picture of a man and a woman. The one who was discussing the painting could not be seen.

"That's her," Sam whispered, "but I can't see her clearly."

"We can wait inside," Dean offered. Before Sam could protest, Dean opened the door slowly and stepped into the dark auditorium as Sam followed.

The professor had her back to them as they took several steps down and sat in two random seats off to the right. Dean and Sam remained quiet as they felt several pairs of eyes on them. They were relieved when the students focused back on the lesson.

"In _Arnolfini Wedding_, Jan van Eyck has used several depictions of symbolism…for instance…the pear…the dog…" the woman spoke into a small microphone at her podium. She was turned around, pointing at the images.

Dean almost held his breath when he saw her turn around.

In the light of the projector, he was able to clearly make out her features. Her short brown hair that he had remembered so well was now several inches below her shoulder. She had a warm smile but she was so intense on focusing on the artwork. She was tall. And slender. And slim. Dean's eyes traced over features and he smiled to himself. She still had the same beautiful face. Big eyes. Nice breasts. Small lips-

"It's also important to note why the bride is so illuminated in light," she explained. "Take note of that. In the background…by the mirror…you can see where van Eyck left his signature…"

"Man," Dean whispered to Sam, "she's gorgeous."

Sam smiled and nodded. He was actually paying attention to the lesson but he also kept his eyes on Amy.

She had a beautiful, calm voice as she spoke. Continuing to explain the painting, Dean didn't focus on her words but noticed the way her lips moved.

It had been so long…

"_I can't believe you're actually thinking about doing this!" a young Amy Cromwell screamed._

_Dean, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, spun around at Amy in the middle of the hall. The school was almost deserted and pieces of paper and fliers rested on the cold tile floor. _

_He slammed his fist against one of the lockers and laughed. "Dammit, what the hell is wrong with what I want to do?"_

"_You're just going to leave?" Amy argued. Her hair spun at the side of her face. Her eyes were large and wide – not in that beautiful way, the angry way._

"_Look, Amy, it's my life okay, I'm glad you're concerned-" Dean started._

"_You have a fourteen-year-old brother!" Amy shrieked angrily. "He needs you in this point in his life. Especially with your dad always going away on those stupid trips-"_

"_Hey, leave my dad out of this…" Dean snapped._

_Amy's face grew calm. She crossed her army across her yellow shirt. "I just don't understand why you just want to take off after graduation. What about college…?"_

"_College is your thing, not mine," Dean said slowly. There was a sad tone to his voice now. "Look, I'll see you later Amy."_

_He walked away, carrying nothing but a small frown. Amy watched him go and she sighed sadly…_

He never spoke with her again after that commotion. He remembered seeing her at graduation but they had never talked.

Dean looked at the girl he knew for so long. She was a beautiful young woman now. A professor at an excellent university. She had done the college thing…and look where it got her.

The lights of the room suddenly turned on. Dean blinked several times, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and now he fought back the watering that was starting to begin.

"So," she called from below, "I expect that paper next Friday. Please look through the text and have a fabulous weekend."

Some students cheered as they gathered their things and went up or down the steps.

Dean and Sam stood up and walked downward. They past several students and by the time they came down the last step the room was emptied of its students.

She sat at her desk, her back faced to them.

Dressed in a pink dress shirt and a black dress skirt, the young woman sat at her desk and typed something quickly. She crossed one leg over the other and Dean noted her long slender legs.

Sam gently tapped Dean across the back of the head to get him to focus.

The small noise – that had angered Dean – had been apparently heard.

Her back still faced to them, she said, "If you want help with the paper, please just give me a minute."

Sam smiled and said, "We're not interested in the paper."

Stopping shortly at her computer, Amy turned around in her desk chair and gazed at the two men before her. Her face, calm and subtle, peered at her visitors. There was a look of shock and surprise that grew upon her face. And then happiness.

Dean didn't realize she knew who they were until Amy jumped from her seat and ran into Sam's arms.

She hugged him for several moments as Dean just watched. It was almost unreal that she was there.

"Oh Sam!" Amy laughed happily. She pulled away, gripping his shoulders and staring at him up and down. "My my…look at you! You're taller than I am…you can't be the little kid I used to baby-sit…"

Sam laughed and his hands rested gently on her small waist. "Sorry I haven't called."

She embraced him again, burying her face into his shoulder. She pulled away once more, smiling happily.

Her eyes turned to the side and Amy looked at Dean and her eyes grew slightly large again.

"Dean Winchester…" she whispered gently. Her smile turned into a shy grin.

Dean wasn't sure what to say, but then suddenly he felt the small figure in his arms as well. His strong arms wrapped around her waist as Amy's were gently resting around his neck. Dean didn't realize that he picked her up two inches off the ground. He hugged her back and slowly put her back down on the floor.

"Sorry," Amy apologized weakly for the over-excited hug. "It's just…wow Dean…ten years?"

"Eight," Dean corrected. "But I'm just good at math."

Amy smiled. Her straight brown hair had streaks of red in it; rebel strands swayed by the sides of her face. She smiled once more and turned to look at the two.

"Sam," Amy asked, "I tried to get in touch with you about two weeks ago actually. I don't have your cell phone number…where have you been?"

Sam looked at Dean and then gazed back at Amy. "I'm not at my apartment anymore. Dean and I have been traveling a bit…"

"Wow," Amy noted, staring at the two brothers. "I really wasn't expecting you for a while…"

"Expecting us…" Dean asked. He looked at Sam strangely and then back at Amy. "We didn't even know we were seeing you until about yesterday…"

"Oh," Amy said oddly. "It's just…I tried to call you Sam because I wanted you to know about your dad-"

"Our dad?" Sam asked suddenly. He looked desperately at Amy and took a step forward. "What about him-have you been in contact with-"

"Did you hear from him-" Dean began.

Amy looked at them back and forth and she raised her hands in defense. "Hey…I thought you knew…"

"Knew what?" Sam asked softly.

She blinked several times, trying to understand. Amy bit her upper lip and slowly said, "Your dad was here about two weeks ago."

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Hopefully you're all enjoying this so far. There may be a few errors in this chapter…I wrote this one rather quickly. Reviews/feedback appreciated.


	4. We Need Your Help

Chapter Four

We Need Your Help

It had been during the airplane-possession fiasco when Dean and Sam last heard anything from their father. He had completely cut off contact and there was no indication if he was hurt or not. The reunion with Amy of course had been unexplainably wonderful, but now the thought of their father had the Winchester brothers more alert of the subject.

They sat in the front row side by side as Amy rolled her desk chair toward them. She sat comfortably and tried a warm smile. Dean and Sam had looks of desperation and worry written across their faces as they waited for her to explain.

"Two weeks ago," Amy started, "I was at the library about three blocks away from here… I was in the Art and Art History section when I noticed this man staring at me. I tried to avoid eye contact so I kept my eyes on the book. But then I couldn't help it…I looked over and the man just went back to reading this book in his hands. I looked at him for a moment and suddenly…I just knew it was your dad. I walked over and when your dad looked up he apologized randomly for staring…he said he thought I looked familiar…and then I told him who I was and that I knew who he was…

"Your dad and I laughed and talked. He said he was staying in Evanston for a bit…apparently he was a civilian aid in some police work and he couldn't tell me anything more. We ended up going to a coffee shop around the corner and just started talking and catching up on the little things. Dean…Sam…"

Amy paused for a moment. She rubbed her hands together nervously and then looked upward into their curious faces. "Your father didn't look well. I don't think he had bathed for a bit. His jacket was wrinkled and I'm pretty sure it was torn in some places. I offered for him to stay with me at my apartment – I have an extra guest room – and he agreed. Your dad left a week ago…but the week he was here with me…he was mostly out during the day…he ate as much as he could" She let out a small laugh, "and we talked a lot during the night. We talked mostly about you guys…I told him, Sam, about all the things you were doing with your life…he was proud…

"It wasn't a long stay. Like I said…it was just a week," Amy finished.

Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment. Dean was leaning over in his seat, resting his chin in his fist and his arm resting on his knee. Sam tapped his fingers along the arm of the chair and he looked at the floor.

"Did our dad say about where he was going to next?" Dean asked.

She sniffed and Amy replied, "No. He said that you guys would figure it out eventually. He said he had work to do. He told me that if you guys were on the right path…you'd end up finding me eventually…"

Sam nodded. "Did our dad say anything about the type of business he was here with?"

"He couldn't tell me about what he was helping the police with…he was a civilian aid…" Amy explained once more.

Dean and Sam exchanged that look again. Amy looked back and forth, utterly confused.

"Is everything okay…guys?" Amy asked sheepishly.

Dean and Sam looked up automatically and the two slowly smiled. Sam gently said, "Dean and I are sort of in the detective business ourselves nowadays. Our dad too. We just haven't spoken with him in a while."

"What was our dad doing at the library…when you saw him?" Dean asked.

Amy narrowed her eyes for a moment as she thought. Her eyes widened when she remembered and she answered, "Oh yes, he was looking through a book…what was it called…it had a mummy on the cover…oh! _History of Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia_."

_Egypt_…Dean thought. _He was here for the murders_.

Sam stood up and Dean followed. Amy stood up as well as she closely studied her old friends' faces.

"Amy…" Sam started slowly. "Dean and I are ecstatic about seeing you again…but we did come on serious matters. We need your help."

"Oh," Amy said softly, looking back at forth from Dean to Sam. "With what?"

Dean reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out the artifact and slowly handed it to Amy.

She accepted the item gracefully and looked at it for a moment. "Jesus Christ…wow…" she murmured. "This is exquisite. Definitely from Egyptian times…it's amazing – look at the hieroglyphics! This is absolutely wonderful…b-but…" She paused. "There are other markings…symbols…I don't recognize some of the writing."

"Can you translate?" Dean asked hopefully.

Amy kept her eyes on the old papyrus sheet. She held it loosely in her delicate hands. "Sorry, my ancient Egyptian is a little rough. I do recognize some symbols…here's the symbol for a sun, I believe…the cobra…a star…symbol for life…the _Eye of Horus_…"

"Horus?" Dean asked.

Amy nodded and explained, "Horus – according to the Egyptians – was represented by a falcon-headed god…this symbol is used to protect from evil…"

"To _protect from evil_…" Sam whispered to Dean.

She continued to look at the artifact with great amazement and confusion. "These other markings are extraordinary. I've never seen anything like it before. They're sort of like…pretty cat scratches…they're just straight or curved lines…some of these loops here…"

Amy finally peeled her eyes away from the Egyptian paper. "Where did you get this?"

"Detective work, Amy. We can't say," Dean explained.

She looked at him for a moment, focusing on his eyes. Dean turned away as he felt tension grew and Amy went back to the artifact.

"I can't translate this," she said gently, "these symbols…and the cat scratches…they all equal words and phrases…"

Dean sighed in distress.

Amy looked up and she turned to Sam. "My friend, Professor Saton, he teaches theology but he's a genius with history. He spent time in Egypt as well. He can help."

Dean looked hopefully at the young woman and smiled. Sam smiled too in joy and nodded his head. "When can we meet with him?"

"Right now."

O.O.O.O.O.


	5. Forgotten Daughter of the Pharaoh

Chapter Five

Forgotten Daughter of the Pharaoh

Light streamed in through the windows in small squares as the three quietly walked down the university corridor. It was obvious Amy had been happy about the small reunion, but she was also confused about the boys' purpose.

She walked between them – Amy leading – with Dean and Sam trailing two feet behind her. They each exchanged a glance and continued to follow their old friend across the wooden floor.

They stopped in front of a set of wooden doors and peered inside. The auditorium was similar to where Amy taught at, except there were no longer students filling the seats. At the large mahogany desk sat an old man who seemed to be in his late fifties or early sixties. He wore a white dress shirt and black pants; his hair was ivory hair stuck up and he had small, gentle eyes. The professor was on the phone that was attached to his desk. His hand held a small pen which he used to record information from the conversation he was having. Professor Saton turned slightly in his seat and smiled at his approaching guests.

Amy, Dean and Sam moved forward and approached the desk as the professor ended his phone conversation.

"Sorry to be a bother," Amy smiled shyly.

"Not at all my dear," Professor Saton replied. He had a strong British accent and a simple smile. His eyes traced over Dean and Sam and he turned back to Amy. "So, how can I help Professor Cromwell?"

"Ian," Amy greeted and she motioned her hands to Dean and Sam, "these are some old friends of mine. This is Dean and Sam Winchester…they're here on _research_ and you're the one I knew who could help."

"Ah, well, I'll see what I can do. So, I can help?" he asked the guys.

Dean gently pulled out the artifact from his pocket and carefully placed it into the hands of the professor.

Professor Saton smiled as he received the old piece of papyrus. His eyes suddenly widened and his small smile curved into a grin that almost reached his eyes.

"Bloody hell…" he murmured happily. "This is incredible. _Actual_ ancient Egyptian writing…right here in my hands…this is quite extraordinary…where did you get this?"

"Umm, sorry professor, we can't say," Sam explained convincingly. "Amy helped identify some symbols…but we're having difficulty deciphering a message or any meaning…and these _cat scratches_…"

"Cat scratches…" Professor Saton repeated.

"Ian," Amy said gently. "I've never seen symbols or markings like these before. Look, the symbols are set up in the correct form to be read in – the columns – I don't think the writing has faded."

"Oh no, it hasn't my dear," the professor replied, his small eyes still focused on the artifact. "I must say…if this is a real artifact from ancient Egypt…this must be _Magi writing_…"

"Magi writing?" Amy questioned.

Professor Saton leaned back in his desk chair and studied the artifact a bit more. He pulled his eyes away and looked up at the three. "When I was in Giza…I heard many stories – legends mostly – about Magi writing in ancient Egyptian writing and hieroglyphics. There have only been rumors. The only set of this 'Magi writing' was found in the pyramid of Ramesses III…it was not located by his tomb but by one of his daughters…her name…tsk…what was her name…"

He rubbed his temple for a moment and his eyes lit up. "Oh yes, Natiskawa…"

"Natiskawa…" Amy repeated. "I've never heard of her."

"Oh no no, my dear," Professor Saton explained, "the Princess Natiskawa is rarely known. She's not mentioned in any textbook or other books about Ramesses III. Enough research online even will only give you small details. Natiskawa was also called the 'Forgotten Daughter of the Pharaoh'…you see…Ramesses apparently had a problem with Natiskawa…she was treated appropriately…but she was never allowed to attend special occasions or banquets, things such as that."

"Why was she ostracized from all this?" Sam asked.

"Excellent question, chap," the professor responded. The old man thought for a moment and explained, "From what I've learned and researched…there are two possible reasons why Natiskawa was so rejected from her father, the pharaoh, and even her own family…either she was born with a horrible disfigurement…or she was mentally insane…"

"If this Princess Nakasaky is so unimportant in history…why is she immediately tied to this artifact and this Magi writing…" Dean asked.

Amy's eyes were focused on Dean and Sam. Their questions were mind-blowing to her.

"Princess Natiskawa," Professor Saton corrected Dean, "is tied in with this Magi writing due to the Magi cult. You see…members of the Magi – those who protected the pharaoh – some were uncontrollably obsessed with Natiskawa. Some rioted against the pharaoh for his poor treatment of his daughter and united to form their own alliance…today…they are known as the Magi cult. Their only focus was seeing the protection of Natiskawa. The story is that Magi cult stole pieces of the Book of the Dead and were able to create some sort of spell or charm that would protect Natiskawa in life _and_ in death…but they didn't want anyone else getting their hands on it…so they created their own language…these straight and curved lines with the odd loops…

"And when Ramesses was in the prime of his time as pharaoh…Natiskawa mysteriously died…she was somewhere in her early twenties…there is no story of _how_ she died…and she was placed in the pharaoh's tomb. And that's that…"

Dean and Sam exchanged looks and looked back at the artifact in the old man's hand.

"That's just the story…" Professor Saton explained. "I believe there are more details to it. My own research has given me all the information I have given to you. I do have a friend, at the museum, who can help. His name is Edward Harris. He is actually in charge of the special Egyptian Treasures opening in about a week. He's the only other person I know who knows the story…"

Amy smiled and nodded. "Thank you, professor."

"My pleasure, my dear," Professor Saton said gently. He stood up slowly and handed the artifact back to Dean gently. "Take care of that…that would actually be very good in a museum…"

Dean smiled weakly and cocked his head. "Maybe some other time."

"Thank you for your help," Sam said, shaking hands with the old professor.

Nodding, Professor Saton smiled and said, "Glad to be of help. Remember, Edward Harris can help. You have a good day."

Amy nodded her farewell to the professor and she along with Dean and Sam left the auditorium.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Well…this Nataskawy princess seems like a good place to start," Dean said, saying the name wrong for the second time, "I say we see this Harris guy at the museum."

Sam nodded gently. He turned his head and searched for Amy.

Dean and Sam were leaning against the hallway of the college as they waited for Amy to reappear from her office.

Turning to Dean, Sam whispered gently, "We can't take the artifact to the museum. This Egyptian Treasures thing opening in a week…it has to be the place where the artifact was _stolen_…we just need to see Harris and say we're interested in the _Natiskawa_ story."

Nodding in agreement, Dean quickly smiled when the black door of Amy's office opened and she appeared carrying a black briefcase and black blazer.

She smiled at them and the three continued their way to leave the school.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Where are you guys staying at?" Amy asked as they crossed the courtyard.

"No where yet, probably a hotel close," Dean explained.

They stood in the center of the courtyard, pacing across the red and orange leaves. A small wind blew and Amy tugged at her blazer. She cringed for a moment and then turned to her friends.

"Hey, I think you guys should stay with me…I know you're doing research but – c'mon – I haven't see you guys in so long…what do you say?"

Dean and Sam turned to each other, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, did I mention…" Amy added. "When your dad stayed with me…and right before he left…he hugged me and he wanted me to tell you guys something…if you ever showed up…he wanted me to tell you that he _left the key for you_…"

"Key?" Dean asked. "What key?"

She shrugged weakly and bit her lower lip. Amy smiled slowly and said, "C'mon, I have an extra guestroom…ppplease…?"

Her small smile turned into a new set of pouty lips. Dean thought she looked adorable.

Sam smiled and turned to Dean. "We save money on hotel…"

Dean smiled as well and stuck his hands into his pockets. "I call bed."

O.O.O.O.O.

Hope you're enjoying it so far.

Feedback/reviews appreciated.


	6. Settling In

Chapter Six

Settling In

Dean was more impressed with Amy when he learned she drove a white Mini Cooper. He couldn't help but be proud when Amy also gave an approving smile toward his '69 Impala. He was still troubled by the fact that he was by her side again. But what made things more awkward was that Dean knew he and Sam were on a mission and Amy was now involved one way or another. The moment he got into the black vehicle, Dean almost wished they had rejected Amy's offer to stay with her. But their father had left a 'key' for them.

Nothing made sense so far.

He sat behind the wheel, slumped back into the seat in his great black leather jacket. Dean followed the white Cooper down the streets and around the corners toward Amy's apartment. Sam sat in the passenger seat, his jacket and Dean's laptop in his lap, and began a bit of research.

"Professor Saton was right," Sam murmured. "Not a lot of information about Natiskawa. Some historians even reference her as never really existing at all. Even 'Magi writing' is believed to be fake."

"Maybe research should be focused more on Ramesses…" Dean offered, turning the wheel. "He's the best link to go through."

He nodded and Sam slowly closed the laptop.

"So…" Sam started. "It was good seeing Amy again, huh?"

Dean pursed his lips and barely turned to his brother, keeping his eyes on the road. "I dunno. It seems like a bad idea staying with her…"

"Why, Dad did…" Sam protested. "Besides…with Amy's help we have connections for research. That means we get the job done faster. Besides…I really _feel_ like it's important we're with her… "

"Why?"

Sam was silent for a moment. He wanted to admit to Dean that his _feeling_s about all this was a lot stronger than he gave out.

_Tell him about the dreams_…Sam thought angrily.

"Dad was with her…Dad stayed with her for a week…" Sam offered. "And remember…he left us some sort of key…"

Dean nodded and ordered, "Fine, we'll do it Dad's way. But when we discover what evil force is behind this…and _we_ get involved…we leave her out completely…"

O.O.O.O.O.

"Damn," Dean muttered as Amy opened the white door.

She lived in an apartment complex called Iris Farms. The complex was composed off five-story white buildings with clean black stairs. The numbers on the doors and even the hallways were neat.

"Are you sure we're not in a hotel?" Dean laughed, looking oddly at a Van Gogh painting in the hallway.

Amy, with her briefcase in hand, smiled as the three made their way to the top floor.

"This was my gift from dear Mom and Dad…they were proud of my graduating university _and_ the whole being a professor deal… they promised if I took the apartment…they wouldn't but into my life as much."

Sam smiled and nodded. "How are your parents?"

They made it to the fifth floor and Amy stopped in front of a white door with the numbers 607 on the front. "Well, last time I checked…they're enjoying Sydney…"

"Sydney?" Dean asked.

"Australia…" Amy laughed as she opened the door.

The inside was just as impressive as the outside. Dean gazed at the clean white walls and white carpet. She had black furniture and Dean and Sam weren't surprised to see her walls covered in art posters, black and white photographs, and movie posters.

"I see you still have your taste in movies," Dean mentioned, stopping in the entry hallway, looking at an _Edward Scissorhands_ poster.

Amy smiled as she led Dean and Sam from the foray. "Tim Burton is god."

The posters and photographs were placed in appropriate numbers around the apartment. Everything was neat and organized and clean. The apartment was larger than expected – the large beige kitchen was off to the left once they left the foray area. The living room was amazing – black leather furniture including a couch, love seat, and a large chair that could fit three – there was a large T.V. equipped with a DVD and HHS player, and there was a stereo system against the back wall.

Dean made himself comfortable on the couch while Sam dropped their two bags on the floor by the love seat.

"Amy this place is great!" Sam exclaimed.

Amy appeared from the right hallway – apparently where the bathroom and the master bedroom and guest room were found.

"It's a good place…good area…the biggest reason why my parents wanted me to take this place," Amy explained.

Sam nodded and went to the far wall. There were three large square windows including two great glass doors that led to a balcony.

Opening the glass doors, Sam stepped into the chilly weather and his eyes grew wide at the balcony. He disappeared outside as Amy removed her jacket and rested it on the couch. She looked over at Dean whose head was resting comfortably on the white pillows.

"Tired?" Amy laughed.

Dean looked up at her and gave her _that_ smile. It was a smile she had grown up to know and love. She smiled back.

"Yeah," Dean yawned slightly, "we drive around a lot."

"Looks like you boys are working hard."

Dean sat up slightly and Amy sat down on the arm of the chair.

"You know Amy…" Dean said slowly, his arm resting on the opposite side of the couch. "You really have it good. You've got a career…parents took care of this awesome place…"

Amy shrugged and sighed. "I hope you're not thinking I'm a spoiled rich girl, or something."

Dean smiled and shook his head. "Just proud."

Her smile changed. It didn't grow wider nor smaller. She looked at him in a way that made Dean feel immediately awkward.

"I'm proud of you too, Dean," Amy whispered. "You're back…and you and your brother are working together…"

Sam came out from the balcony and rubbed his cold arms. "Hey, nice balcony-"

"I'll go check it out," Dean said quickly, leaping from the couch and coolly walking over to the balcony and disappearing.

Sam approached Amy on the couch and stood in front of her.

"Dean's not good with reunions, huh?" Amy giggled.

He shrugged and Sam grinned, "It's hard to get him in a touchy-feely mood, but he'll come around."

Amy smiled and she studied Sam's face for a moment. He narrowed his eyes at her in a questionable way and wiggled his eyebrows in a jokingly way.

She blushed and turned her face away.

"Ha, what is it?" Sam chuckled.

Amy released a small sigh and smiled. "I dunno…something about you kiddo…you're like a little brother to me…I know we haven't talked in a while…it's just really good to see you…it's just…I can't help but…"

"But what?" Sam asked. He moved toward her and sat down in the couch. Amy, still sitting on the arm, turned to her old friend and her hand rested on his shoulder.

Her eyes focused down on him once more. "Sam…is everything okay? You and Dean are in the _detective _business now…I just can't help but feel really…"

"Concerned?" Sam finished.

Amy bit her upper lip and whispered, "Worried."

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean had his hands gripped on the balcony railing. Wind blew through his dirty blonde hair and the cool air felt good against his face. This was the perfect view of Evanston. The trees had changed their color and the main city and parks were in eye view. Dean took a deep breath, inhaling a great scent of pine and cold air.

He didn't turn his head when Sam joined his side. The two brothers remained silent as their eyes were scattered across the town.

"Amy's in the shower. She showed me her bedroom…she has a great computer system set up…good for research…she suggested we call this Harris guy at the museum and try and go see him tomorrow. Especially if we want our _detective work_ to get done as soon as possible."

Dean nodded. He had his game face on now – stern and serious.

"You go see Harris at the museum…" Dean instructed. "We don't know yet if it's this Egyptian princess yet…I'm gonna go see the first victim's family…they're here in Evanston…"

"I agree," Sam nodded. "But I do have a pretty good feeling it's this Natiskawa. The murders didn't happen until the case of all the Egyptian artifacts were sent from Cairo for this museum opening."

"But why just Illinois?" Dean asked. "Five women…all in this state…the first victim _just happened_ to be here…"

"I don't know why she would just stick around here," Sam offered. "But we're not going to know anything until we talk to Harris and get info on the victims."

"Good job Sammy," Dean added, he patted his brother hard on the back and stepped back inside of the apartment, leaving Sam to stare after him.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean was playing around with the T.V. while Sam used the laptop to get the address of the museum and the number for Edward Harris.

Both were silent until they heard the phone ring.

"Should we get it?" Dean asked.

The phone continued to ring but Sam just reminded that the answering machine would get it. They remained silent and Dean and Sam continued what they were doing.

"…Hi, it's Amy, sorry I missed your call…leave a name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can…"

BEEP.

"…Well hey there professor…it's Michael…" a voice began on the answering machine. It was a deep and gentle voice that was playing.

"Must be a student," Sam said as he typed at the laptop.

"…sorry I canceled dinner last night. Hospital was crazy…"

Dean looked at Sam and suddenly both boys had an interest in the message – especially Dean.

"…I actually have to go in tonight for a late shift. I set up reservations at our restaurant for tomorrow night. I'll stop by your place tomorrow morning. I love you. Bye."

BEEP. Message over.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the black phone and its receiver on the kitchen counter.

Amy walked out of the hallway wearing jeans and a plain blue long-sleeve shirt. Her long brown hair looked black as it was wet and she ran a hand through the strands.

"I miss a call?"

Sam, sitting on the large leather seat, sat up to meet Amy's gaze.

"Yeah…a Michael called?"

"Yeah, who's Michael?" Dean asked.

Amy smiled and she stared at the answering machine for a brief moment before turning back to the guys.

"Ah, well, I was hoping you boys could meet him when I first introduce you…Michael is my boyfriend…"

"Oh wait, the doctor…I remember you told me about him last year…" Sam smiled and laughed. "I never knew you two were involved."

"Oh, we weren't at the time. He was a great friend. We've been together for about eight months…"

Dean looked back at forth at the two. He dropped the remote control on the couch and sat in the love seat. He had thrown his leather jacket on the floor and once again made himself comfortable on the furniture. He was wearing a navy blue T-shirt and his arms rested above his head, showing off his strong biceps and flat stomach.

"So," Amy crooned. She walked over to their work station and sat down on the couch beside Sam. "Pretty early in the evening…you guys have plans?"

Dean yawned rather loudly and Sam went back to the computer in his lap. "Actually," Sam said softly, "just going to call this Harris guy and go to bed…"

Amy nodded and stood up. "It's almost five…I'm actually tired too…I'll call and order some Chinese…"

"Thanks Aimes," Sam said, calling Amy by her real name.

She stood up and walked over to the phone. Dean watched as she replayed Michael's message and then erased it. Moments later she was talking to someone at the Chinese restaurant.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy and Sam were both watching a college football game while Dean was on the phone.

"…Hi, this is Dean Winchester…I'm a student at the university and I'm studying Ancient Egyptian history. Your friend, Professor Ian Saton, recommended that I speak with you about my dissertation. I just wanted to call and schedule a possible appointment. If it's alright I'll be stopping by in the morning around ten or eleven. Thanks, bye."

Dean hung up and rejoined Sam and Amy.

"Hey," Sam said, watching Dean sit down, "I thought I was going to the museum…"

"You're more of a people-person," Dean said, sitting down on the couch by Sam, "you handle the family…I get the museum guy."

Sam nodded and went back to the game.

There were empty, white Chinese cartons scattered around the black center table. Amy stood up quietly and took care of the trash left behind of their early dinner. She began to tidy up when Sam and Dean stood up to help but she raised a hand in defense, "You're my guests…sit…"

Sam and Dean followed the command and watched as she cleaned the table and walked to the kitchen to throw away the remains.

O.O.O.O.O.

The gray apartment had a comfy, homey feeling to it. There was a brown couch and seat against the wall and a widescreen television set up on the opposite side. The carpet was dark red and spotless. It was a small apartment, meant for only one person.

There was a dog, a black Labrador, that slept quietly on the couch. He listened to the silent ticking of the clock. The creature's ears perked up when the door opened. A slight whine escaped the dog's mouth before it took off the couch in a run and ran out the still open door. The person who had stepped in closed the door slowly right as the dog ran away.

He was still dressed in the same white dress shirt, jeans, and a pair of black dress shoes. His eyes were gray and worn and he appeared to have lacked sleep for a long period of time. His legs moved slowly across the red carpet as he made his way to the couch.

Sitting down, the man gently rested his hands on his knees and stared down at the brown table in the center of the room. Five pictures of the same size were spread out across the table: the first picture was of a young girl of the age eighteen; the second picture showed a woman in her thirties at the park; the third revealed a woman in her twenties who was walking down the street; the fourth was that of an elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair on her front porch; and the fifth was of a beautiful woman with curly blonde hair at a grocery store.

The victims.

He looked carefully at the pictures and smiled. His large hand reached into his back pocket and he pulled out a new picture.

The sixth picture was placed in the last of the row – it showed a young woman wearing a blue dress and she had a cast on her arm, walking away from a church.

The man smiled devilishly down at the sixth picture.

"_You're next."_

O.O.O.O.O.

It was set up so Sam had the guest room and Dean took the couch that pulled out into a bed. The guestroom was a large white room that had a single painting against the wall and a large window that had a great view of the city. There was a queen-size bed and a black nightstand beside it. Dean and Sam had inspected the room earlier and found no "key" left by their father.

Sam came out of the guest room dressed in black sweats and a blue T-shirt. He rubbed his tired eyes and came into the living room to see Dean prepare his bed. He moved away the black center table and spread out the moveable bed. Once that was done, Dean looked down at his creation and smiled.

"Good work," Sam mocked.

Dean looked up and rolled his eyes. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants and he was shirtless.

"You know…we are staying at someone else's home…you could be respectful and wear a shirt," Sam noted. He walked over to his brother and sat down on the love seat.

Dean smiled slyly and looked down at his hard pecs and six-pack abs. He then looked at his strong arms and flexed a moment. At that moment, Amy came out from the main hallway dressed in black sweats and a white T-shirt.

"What's the fun in that?" Dean whispered.

Amy walked over slowly toward the two brothers. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the two of them. Dean couldn't help but smile when he noticed Amy blink several times at Dean and then turn directly to Sam.

"So, you guys waking up early for work?" Amy yawned. It was only seven but everyone in the apartment seemed to be exhausted.

"I intend on sleeping in," Dean yawned, putting his hands on his hips.

Sam nodded and rubbed his chest. "Same too."

Amy noticed the way Sam rubbed his chest and how he cringed. "You okay, Sam?"

Sam looked up and blinked, "I think I just had some bad Chinese food."

"Me too, stomach ache," Amy admitted. "Want some Tums?"

"Please."

Sam followed Amy into the kitchen, leaving Dean to already tuck himself in.

Amy and Sam were in the kitchen and as he leaned against the small island in the middle, Amy grabbed a bottle of Tums from one of her cabinets. Not only did she come back with the Tums, she also held a small orange bottle in her hand.

"What's that?" Sam asked, taking the large chalky pill and swallowing it with a glass of water.

Amy took the water from Sam when he was done and she opened the small bottle and took out a tiny white pill. "The good Doctor Boyfriend gave it to me," she laughed. "I, umm…I sort of have a sleeping disorder…sometimes I don't sleep at all…mostly because of night terrors…"

"Night terrors?" Sam asked. "Bad nightmares?"

"Oh yeah," Amy responded as she swallowed the pill. "I've had it all my life. It wasn't that much of an issue when I was younger…except I would wake up screaming or crying. It doesn't happen often."

Sam nodded and smiled. "I'm glad we're here, Amy."

Amy nodded and said, "I am too. Get to bed. And oh, if I can help at all with any of this-"

"I'll let you know," Sam finished. He leaned over and placed a small kiss on her forehead. "Good night."

Amy hugged her old friend and she watched as he left the kitchen and made his way to the guest room.

Dean was still lying in his bed when Amy came over.

He had the blanket up to his waist and he had three pillows stalked on one another and leaned his back against it. He was typing something into his laptop and looked up when Amy came forward.

"Come to tuck me in?" Dean asked wryly.

She cocked her head to the side as she sat down on the edge of the made-bed. "Just saying good night. You okay here?"

"Perfect," Dean answered.

Amy smiled and shook her head. Dean smiled at her again in that way – Amy remembered those pouty lips and soft eyes.

"You still get the girls with that look?" she giggled.

Dean shrugged playfully and closed the laptop. "Oh, please, never."

She looked at him and gave a playful grin. "Good night, Dean," Amy whispered softly. She stood up, smiling, and walked away.

He watched after her, slightly confused at what had happened. He had attempted at flirting. And apparently failed.

_Good job Dean_…he thought. Frustrated, Dean leaved over toward the small table with a lamp and the remaining light in the apartment faded away.

O.O.O.O.O.


	7. Bad Dreams

Chapter Seven

Bad Dreams

_Black hair. Dark as night. The man was moving slowly toward her…_

_She was crying. She was scared. Her mind was racing and her heart was beating three times faster than it normally should. The nineteen-year-old girl was pressed down by an invisible force. Her small body was being pushed down to the desolate basketball court. Every time she tried to stand up, and failed, she let out a small yelp._

_The enchanted wind flew around the young woman constantly. She tried to scream but the wind forced her to gasp for air. The wind was so strong it had forced her shirt to be unbuttoned._

"_HELP!" she finally cried out, and the wind suddenly pushed down on her so hard her head hit the pavement and she let out a cry of pain._

_The man, two feet away form her, had his hands in his pockets. He smiled as the girl tried to roll onto her side but she had a growing migraine now._

"_That's enough," he told the wind. And according to his command, the wind disappeared._

_Moving closer to her, he bent down and his skeleton-like eyes looked down at the girl._

"_For someone to deny something so great…" he said softly, "they are to be shown their error."_

_The woman was now flat on her back, her arm that was in a cast reached up to try and push the man away weakly. _

_He put his large, tanned hand on her open chest and the black glow erupted from his hand and eyes. _

_The glow grew brighter as the man began to mutter something underneath his breath. When his long chant was finished, the black glow faded away._

_The woman, who now found the ability to speak again, opened her mouth and screamed again. _

_Grinning, the man placed a hand over her mouth and used his other hand in the center of his palm grew the large black-flamed orb. He forced it into the woman's chest and her eyes widened in fear and agony. Her free arm tried to stop him but suddenly it fell to the ground._

_He muttered the same type of chant once more. Once he was finished, he pulled out the Swiss army knife form his pocket. He leaned over and across the dead woman's chest he slowly drew the blade into her skin. When he was done, the man looked down at her and smiled. Across the woman's chest were three curved lines that looked like a tree._

_Standing up, the man smiled at what he had done. _

_He turned around so fast Amy wasn't ready for him. His large hands wrapped around her neck and he began to squeeze as hard as he could._

"_NO!" she screamed, feeling her vision fade away…_

O.O.O.O.O.

"NO!" erupted from her dry lips as Amy woke up. She panted heavily and her sweaty hand reached up quickly to touch her neck. It wasn't sore or in pain.

Her other hand touched her moist cheek – she had been crying.

_Just another dream_…Amy reminded herself. _Go back to sleep_.

But there was no way she could go back to sleep. No possible way. The image of the young woman struggling and fighting for life. She remembered the dream clearly…the man…his dark eyes…his smile…

The tree. She remembered the symbol that had been put into the woman's flesh. It had looked like a tree.

_Stop this_, Amy demanded, _just go back to sleep_.

O.O.O.O.O.

It felt better when Amy changed into a pair of green-black pajama pants and a black tank top. She sat at the edge of her bed breathing deeply.

Her eyes looked up to stare around the room. It made her feel better to do that. She viewed her cherry wood bed set – nightstand, dresser, drawer and mirror. Her eyes then fell on the glass desk with her Dell computer system. Finally, she turned to her large window beside her bed and stared out into the darkness. The moon and the stars were out and the city was lit with lights.

Amy turned to her nightstand and her digital clock read nine-thirty.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean was looking up at the plain white ceiling. He had only been able to fall asleep for an hour. He had done research earlier and now, here he was, looking up at the ceiling.

He was flat on his back, removing the pillows from underneath him. His chest rose and fell gently with each breath.

_Dad, where are you_…Dean thought sadly.

It was hard not to break down. Dean promised himself to never break down and cry like a little girl. He was the tough bad ass since he was four. Since his mother's murder.

_Why come and stay and talk with Amy_, Dean pondered, _why not even talk to us? Are you okay? Have you been hurt? Do you know anything about Mom's killer? Jessica's…?_

His head turned when he heard small steps reentering the living room area. He saw a shadow move across the carpet slowly. He felt eyes on him. It was pitch black in the room except from the small line of line escaping the bottom of the balcony doors.

The person paused a moment, apparently looking at Dean, and then moving slowly into the kitchen and turning on the light.

Dean narrowed his eyes and stood up slowly. He moved aside the bed sheets and pillows and slowly walked toward the kitchen.

He closed his eyes against the bright light but when focus returned to him, Dean found Amy – in new clothes – standing over the sink with her hands on the edge of the counter.

"You okay?" Dean said gruffly, gaining back his awake-voice.

She turned around quickly, alert of his presence.

Her face look worn and Dean saw by the redness of her large brown eyes that she had been crying.

"Bad dream," Amy explained hoarsely.

Dean remembered what Sam said about being polite in someone's home. He felt bad about not wearing a shirt. He crossed his strong arms over his chest and pecs and walked over to Amy by the sink. He leaned up against the counter, looking down at Amy's face.

"Night terror?" he asked.

She looked up slowly and touched her forehead. "How did you know?"

"I overheard…" Dean admitted sheepishly.

Amy nodded slowly and touched her cold arms.

He reached over gently and rested his hand on her bare shoulder. She seemed to jump a little at his touch but softened quickly.

Her sad eyes looked up at Dean and she asked, "You had a bad dream too?"

He half-smiled, putting on the James Bond grin again. "All the time."

Amy smiled slowly and she did something that surprised Dean – she leaned against him and hugged him. Her arms wrapped around his waist while Dean was left to hold her upper body in his grasp. He rested his chin on her head, rubbing her back gently. She wanted comfort, clearly, and Dean had no problem trying to help.

Her face was pressed against his chest and Amy closed her eyes. "I've really missed you Dean. And when John came and stayed with me…it was a bigger reminder of how much I had missed you."

The flirtatious grin that Dean Winchester gave to girls constantly flooded away. Instead, his lips curved into a small smile.

"I've missed _you too_…"

Her hair smelled of vanilla and strawberries. Dean couldn't help but continue to hold onto Amy. It had been eight years since they had seen each other; and after barely a day here they were…hugging…

And Dean had no shirt.

He suddenly felt like this was inappropriate. Him – the babe magnet – was feeling guilty holding a beautiful woman against him.

_She has Doctor Michael_…he thought angrily.

Dean slowly pulled away, his hand combed through her hair and he gave her a weak smile.

Her hands moved away from his waist and the two continued to stare at each other-

"Hey…" a voice startled them.

Amy whirled around and Dean's head shot up.

Sam, whose eyes were squinting against the light, rubbed his head and entered the kitchen area with the others.

Dean leaned against the counter while Amy moved over and leaned against the kitchen island.

"I had a bad dream, it's okay…" Amy explained.

Sam looked at Amy worriedly and then nodded. "I actually had one myself."

"Well, I guess we can damn Chinese food to hell forever," Dean said sarcastically.

His comment made Amy laugh slightly. Her smile made Dean grin.

"Well…" Amy yawned slowly. "I'm going back to bed. And you boys have work tomorrow…I suggest you get back to bed."

"'Night, Amy," Dean murmured as she left the kitchen.

"Get some sleep, 'kay?" Sam reminded.

Amy smiled at the two and disappeared into the darkness of the apartment.

Sam looked at Dean and rolled his eyes in a frustrated way.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"She's involved with someone Dean," Sam warned. "Don't do what you usually do-"

"And what's _that_ exactly?" his brother asked.

"Chasing skirts besides chasing demons," Sam said seriously.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the tiles on the floor. "It's not like that. She and I are old friends…"

Sam cocked his head and said, "Good…_friends_…g'night…"

He turned to walk away and Dean watched as his brother left.

"Hey," Dean called after him. Sam turned. "What was your dream about? Jessica…?"

Sam shook his head slowly and said, "Actually…it was about another girl…not a good dream…"

O.O.O.O.O.

I know it was a short chapter. More on the way.


	8. Revelation

Chapter Eight

Revelation

The warmth of the sun caused his eyes to flicker and he turned slowly on his side. Sam's shaggy brown hair was draped across his face as he yawned. His blue T-shirt was wrinkled as he slowly sat up and leaned against the back of the bed.

_Where is that damn key_…Sam thought. He had searched during the night before going to bed. His father was the cryptic-type person, John Winchester would at least leave some type of message or indication behind that he had been there. Or at least letting his sons know he was okay.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam, hair and teeth brushed and cleaned, came out of the hallway in fresh clothes – jeans, boots, and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt.

He heard the television on and scented the aroma of hot coffee. The seven foot-three inch male came into the living room area and found Dean standing in front of the television. He was fully dressed too – jeans and a white T-shirt with a blue dress shirt over it.

"G'morning…" Sam yawned.

Dean turned around quickly and ordered, "Sam, look at this…"

Alert of his brother's tension, Sam quickly walked over to his brother's side and both gazed at a news report.

A woman in a blue dress shirt had a microphone inches away from her lips as her large black hair swayed in the cool wind. She continued her story... "The family of the victim is still unsure of how this happened. They reported that their daughter, Carolina Grimes, went out for walks every night. According to the police, Carolina would have walked _four_ miles from her home where she was attacked at the basketball court. Police have identified the body and are still unsure of the cause of death. Unfortunately, Carolina has been the _sixth_ victim found – with no way of telling how they were killed – and found with Egyptian-type writing cut into their skin…"

The report continued and suddenly there was a picture on the screen of the victim – a beautiful young girl with auburn hair.

"She's the _sixth_ victim…_right here in Evanston_…" Dean murmured slowly.

"Oh my God…" Sam coughed out, completely flabbergasted.

Dean turned to his brother and stared at him oddly. "Sam…Sammy? What is it?"

Sam continued to stare at the picture of Carolina Grimes.

"I saw her…" Sam whispered. Dean had to turn down the T.V. just to hear him. "I saw her…and I saw the _basketball court_…I _saw her_…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded.

"My dream…the nightmare I had last night…it was of her…Carolina Grimes…I saw her die at the basketball court…and I saw who killed her…this guy…and he carved something into her chest…this tree-lookin' thing…and when he was done…he suddenly turned around and started choking me…that's when I woke up…"

"Wait a minute…" Dean thought slowly. "You dreamt this…you…had a _vision_?"

There was no word to describe the way Dean looked. He was confused and shocked and surprised and Dean himself couldn't explain how he was feeling.

"Dean," Sam said quickly, "remember the Bloody Mary thing…the _secret_ I had…"

"The one that was supposedly the cause of someone's death…" Dean remembered. He was angry at the memory that his brother almost died – by bleeding through the eyes – because of this _secret_ that Sam refused to share.

Until now.

Sam stared directly at his brother, explaining further, "You know how I had dreams of Jessica's death after she died…"

Dean nodded sadly.

He took in a deep breath and Sam said softly, "I had those dreams _before_ she died too…"

O.O.O.O.O.

The T.V. had been turned off.

Dean was sitting down on the couch in silence. He rubbed his head and then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

Sam was sitting quietly on the opposite seat.

"How long?" Dean asked plainly.

"I had the dreams a couple of weeks before she died…I thought they were just paranoia…well…ever since then…_my feelings_ about things…they've been a lot stronger…and more perceptive…"

"And you dreamt about the sixth victim…" Dean whispered.

Sam nodded. "Dean…I'm not sure what's happening to me…and I'm actually _pretty_ terrified…but I _know_ it was too late to save Carolina Grimes…but I think we can save the others…if there are others…I'm just not sure how to work _this_…"

"There are some powerful psychics in this world…I know Dad had a friend back home in Kansas who was pretty into the whole ESP thing…" Dean explained. "And all I know…is that it takes time to work these powers…"

Both brothers continued to sit in silence.

There was a sudden knocking at the door. Both turned and Dean was the one to stand and walked toward the door.

_How could he not tell me_…Dean thought angrily as he opened the door.

A man, somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties, stood outside the open door with a bouquet of white lilies. He had short brown hair and large blue eyes; he wore jeans and a black coat.

"Yes?" Dean asked. But he already knew who it was.

"Oh, hi, I'm Michael…where's Amy?"

As if on cue, Amy – still in her pajamas – came running out of the hallway and toward the foray.

"Michael!" she exclaimed happily. Her hair was tied into a long ponytail as she walked by Dean and toward Michael.

She hugged Michael shortly and the two whispered something to each other outside the apartment.

Dean moved out of the way and came back into the living room.

Amy escorted Michael inside by the arm – her bouquet of flowers found in her grip.

"Michael…I'd like to introduce you to some old friends…" Amy explained.

Dean and Sam stood side by side – Sam smiling and Dean with a smug look on his face.

"This is Sam…and Dean…guys, this is Michael…" Amy said softly. She turned to Michael and explained, "Michael, these are John's sons…"

"Oh, John…" Michael smiled, "you're the Winchester boys, eh? Your dad talked a lot about you…"

Sam reached his hand out and shook hands with him. "Eh, thanks. It's nice to meet you Michael."

"Likewise," Michael responded cheerfully. He was a good-looking guy and immediately kind-hearted. "Amy has told me a lot about you, Sam. From what I hear you want to be a lawyer, correct?"

"Well…" Sam admitted slowly. "I'm looking into some other things at the moment."

Michael nodded and turned to Dean. "And you're the older brother. It's good to meet you."

Dean nodded and smiled. "So, Mike, you're a doctor huh?"

"Yep, I'm a pediatrician," Michael explained.

_There's no way I can hate this guy_…Dean thought.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam and Michael were sitting opposite each other back in the living room. Sam's laughter was heard from the couch as Amy and Dean worked busily in the kitchen to get four cups of coffee ready.

"How the hell did you do this?" Amy laughed in a hushed whisper.

"I make coffee my way – you make coffee your way…" Dean grinned.

She returned the smile and went back to getting four large black coffee cups from the cupboard.

Dean pressed a button on the white coffee maker and found it was all done now.

"So…" Dean crooned. "Michael seems like a nice guy."

Sam and Michael were both heard laughing in the other room.

Amy, smiling, put the black cups on a white tray and turned to Dean with a sly grin. "If I didn't know any better…I'd say I detect a slight _jealous_ tone from you, Dean…"

Dean turned slightly to Amy and gave her a quick wink.

"You're still the same Dean Winchester..." Amy mumbled.

"That a good thing?"

She looked up at him closely and turned back to poor the coffee into the cups. When she was done Amy looked up and took the tray into her hands. "It is…but I can definitely see an improvement."

Dean, being the person he was, leaned down closely to Amy's face – so close Amy could smell the clean scent of Dean's blue collar – and he took the tray from her hands and left the kitchen.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy sat closely beside Michael while Dean was near Sam's area. They were seated around the black center table.

Michael took a sip of his coffee and looked up at the guys.

"So, what do you have planned today?"

Sam rested his cup back on the table and rubbed his hands together.

"I understand you're in the detective business…" Michael asked, looking at Amy for verification. She nodded.

"Oh…we're sort of just starting out…background research mostly…" Sam explained.

"You're working on those murders…aren't you…" Amy said suddenly. Her voice was quiet and it sounded as if she didn't even mean to blurt it out. She looked up, receiving an odd glance from Michael and an almost-surprised expression from both Winchester brothers. "I just mean…yesterday…you were asking those questions with Professor Saton…those women…five, right?...the ones who are found dead…no trace of how they died…and the Egyptian markings…"

Michael looked up and shook his head sadly.

Dean was looking awkwardly from Amy to Sam.

"Yeah," Sam blurted out. "We…are…umm…I think that's why our father was here…investigating…but I guess he got a new case or something so we're here…like I said…we're just investigating background info mostly…"

"My my…quite a profession…" Michael noted.

Dean hated the feeling knowing Amy suddenly guessed what they were up to. She was a smart girl, Dean knew this.

"We can't give details about the investigation…" Dean explained last.

"I understand," Michael responded. Amy was silent. Turning to Dean and Sam, Michael said, "I think there was another attack…last night…wasn't there?"

"There was-" Amy started.

"Yeah, it was on the news this morning…" Dean mumbled. He turned to look at Sam. There were still no words he could put together to explain how he felt about his brother's _visions_.

Sam felt the powerful gaze from his brother – he kept his focus on Michael and Amy.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Sorry I have to run…" Michael explained. Amy walked him to the door while Dean and Sam entered the foray with them.

"We should all get together," Michael offered cheerfully. He turned to Amy and rested his hands on her bare arms. "I have clinic duty all day…but I'll come by and take you out to dinner…be ready at eight…?"

Amy nodded. She smiled slowly and Michael leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. It was a gesture that made Sam smile and Dean look away.

"I'll see you later…" Amy whispered. She opened the door and as Michael waved farewell she closed the door.

Amy slowly turned to Sam and Dean and placed a hand on her stomach.

She looked ill.

"Amy, are you alright…?" Sam asked.

Her soft brown eyes looked up at her friends and Amy asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were investigating the murders in Chicago…where the women are found with Egyptian writing in their skin…"

Dean looked at Sam and turned back to Amy. "We didn't want you knowing because…well..."

"It's just we wanted to keep our visit and our work separate," Sam explained gently. He smiled at Amy weakly.

She nodded slowly and put both hands on her hips. She thought for a moment.

"So…another person was killed…" Amy said slowly.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah. She was found at a basketball court about four miles from her home…Sam…I think you should visit the first victim's family today _and_ Carolina Grimes' family…"

Sam nodded in agreement and looked at Amy. Her eyes were wide open and her hand was trembling by her mouth.

"Amy-" Sam started as he took a step forward to her.

"No no…" she whispered quickly. She fought back tears – Sam and Dean noticed – and she quickly put on a brave face and said, "I umm…I'm going to go take a shower…good way to start the morning…"

She ran past them. Dean tried to grab for her arm but he missed. Both brothers watched as she walked quickly into the hallway and closed the door to her bedroom.

Amy, inside her bedroom, but a hand over her mouth to cover the loud sob that escaped her lips. She leaned against the door and slid down to the floor.

_Basketball court_…Amy thought.

_Oh my God_…Amy thought. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. _Their dad was right…John was right…oh God…oh God…oh God…_

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Sorry about the slow updates. Been busy. I'll definitely update a lot more this week. Hope everyone is enjoying. THANKS TO ALL OF MY REVIEWERS: **-CrAZyXXbEAuTIfUL-…Day Dreamer…sara…Lindsay…Saynt Jimmy…Ghostwriter…SupernaturalGurl…Tickin' Time bomb…ChaiGrl…Christie…PadFootCc…dancing in the rain…Elena…lee tea…Janiqua…Hanyou-demoness…Nate and Jake…I Heart Dean…** You have all been great reviewers and thanks for the positive feedback!

p.s. I realize that the story seems to be moving along slowly…but I'm trying to update as much as I can…


	9. Her Story Revelation Part 2

A/N: Thanks a lot for the great reviews! Trying to update as much as I can…enjoy!

**Spuffyshipper**: No, Amy is not pregnant…I intended that little part to show she was physically sick in some way…

O.O.O.O.O.

Chapter Nine

Her Story…Revelation Part 2

_Around nine-thirty…_

Sam sat by the black table, kneeling over to write two separate addresses on a sheet of white paper. His hand moved across the paper quickly and once he was done Sam stuck the paper in the pocket of his dark brown jacket.

His back sunk into the leather cushion of the couch. A strand of hair strayed across his forehead. His hands rested slowly on his legs as he looked at the object sitting beside him. Dad's journal.

It took a moment before Sam reached over for the journal and touched the old brown leather. He opened it slowly and found the place Dean had marked for him earlier.

There was a place in the book where John Winchester seemed to have glued and stapled the page due to lack of paper. The notebook paper that was clearly now a part of the book read _PSYCHICS_ at the top in their father's writing.

_For the record: Information given in 1993 with the help of __Missouri Mosley:_

_The powers that these 'psychics' possess range from visions to the possibility of moving things just by thought. These people who are gifted with these paranormal talents can reach their late seventies before realizing that they even have these powers. Some psychics can read minds, predict the future, see the past, have the ability to speak or connect with the dead, on rare occasions there are those who are 'telekinetic' and can move things just with their mind, there are also those who have certain 'feelings' about things and their feelings intend on being right. _

_It takes time and faith for a psychic to be able to reach the highest point of their power. Time, meditation, and strong will are the key components for these powers to ever work completely beside (what most psychics experience) time-to-time psychic occurrences._

_There is more information about psychics out there but new things are being learned about these abilities every day. _

Closing the book slowly, Sam reached up and ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _How the hell is this supposed to work?_

Sam turned in the couch when he heard "Dean, Sam!" and Amy came walking quickly out of the hallway.

Dean, who had been out in the balcony, came back into the living room and closed the glass doors.

He stood and Sam asked, "Everything okay, Amy?"

"I'm fine, Sam…" Amy said quickly. "It's just…sorry about that little thing before…I just wasn't feeling well for a moment."

Dean, wearing his black leather jacket, asked, "Did that shower help?"

She shrugged and put on an impeccable smile. "It did. So…are you guys leaving soon?"

Sam and Dean nodded.

Amy stuck her hands in the back pockets of her faded jeans; she wore a blue T-shirt with her brown leather jacket over it and white sneakers. Her long brown hair was held up by a black clip.

"Sam…Dean…" Amy mumbled slowly. "I think I need to go with one of you…"

"Go?" Dean asked. "Oh no, it's fine," he said quickly, "we just have some work to get out of the way…you'll be bored…"

"I actually had in mind that I go with you Dean…to the museum…" Amy explained. She seemed on-edge for some reason. "I know Sam is going to go talk to the victims' families. And I have an interest in this Natiskawa story. Besides…you both going in separate directions in _one car_…and cab fare and all that…Dean, let me take you…"

He shook his head and said, "Amy, it's really fine. I'm just going to get a little history lesson. Please-"

"Dean," Amy whispered more sternly. "Please…I'd like to go with you if you don't mind."

Her voice was so determined in going. Sam turned to Dean and cocked his head and gave him the It's-not-a-big-deal look.

"Amy…" Dean tried. "Like we explained before…we're in the detective business and we have to be secretive about this…"

"I think your dad would be okay with my going," Amy added in quickly. She put her hands on her hips. "I think your dad wanted me to get involved with this…_research_…"

Before Sam or Dean could say anything else, Amy reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her car key.

"Let's go."

O.O.O.O.O.

There was no arguing with her. Sam mentioned that it would be easier driving with Amy around – and saving money – and so Sam could drive Dean's car to see the victims' families.

Amy and Dean pulled out of the parking lot in her white Mini Cooper and both watched the black '69 Impala take off ahead of them.

They sat in silence before Dean reached over and turned the radio on. He found a good station – mostly loud, rock music that involved yelling – and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.

"The museum is about twenty to thirty minutes away," Amy offered. "And since neither of you have identification for your work…I can use my teacher's ID…I'd like to hear what Mr. Harris has to say."

Dean rested his elbow by the window and turned to Amy. "I don't get it Amy…why the sudden interest in joining in?"

"Well…let's just call it curiosity…I just want to know what it is you and Sam do so much for Sam to completely desert his home and go on this road trip with you…and why your father was in on it too…"

_If only I could tell you_…Dean thought sadly. But how would that work… _'Hey Amy…just stopping by to see you and we're checking out these murders who we think were done by a dead Egyptian princess'…_

"Dean?" Amy asked when they came into the main road and stopped at a red light.

"Hmm?" he mumbled while looking out the window.

Amy rested her elbow too against the window while her hand rested firmly on the steering wheel.

"Sam seems different...aloof and sad…" Amy mentioned. "What happened?"

She turned to look at Dean who seemed to find it hard to find the correct words.

"Amy…" Dean explained slowly. "Sam's girlfriend Jessica…she died…"

"_What?_" Amy gasped quietly. She remembered Sam mentioning a girlfriend a while ago. There was a pang of guilt and pain in her heart. She felt awful for Sam.

"That's why Sam isn't taking the road to becoming a lawyer…he and I have been driving around…doing our work…our father too."

_Poor Sam_…Amy thought sadly. _Oh, Sam. I'm so sorry._

"It was bad at first for Sam to deal…but he's been better now…" Dean added gently.

Silence overtook them once again. Dean remained quiet while his thoughts pondered over his brother. Amy, trying to respect the silence, put both hands on the wheel and continued to drive.

O.O.O.O.O.

_Ten-twenty…_

_1291 Fossel Drive…_

Sam pulled up the quiet driveway in the black car. He turned the ignition off and slowly peered up at the house. It was made of gray stucco and had a Weeping Willow tree in the front yard. Several pumpkins were lined around the tree – Halloween was a couple weeks away.

He climbed out of the car and closed the door as his eyes traced over the house. Sam slowly made his way across the yard and came up to a dark blue door. He knocked three times and took a step back and waited.

A moment later, the door opened and a small boy of the age of thirteen answered. He had curly black hair and wore a T-shirt with a guitar on it.

"Is this the home of the McMillan family?" Sam asked.

The boy nodded.

Before Sam could say anything else, a couple in their fifties came into the doorway. They seemed like a regular couple – both wore jeans and a T-shirt of some kind – they smiled at Dean and the father asked, "Can I help you?"

Sam stared at them sadly. He pursed his lips and asked slowly, "I was wondering if I could ask some questions about your daughter Taylor…"

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam sat at the white kitchen table with Mr. and Mrs. McMillan. There were three tall glasses of iced tea but no one seemed to be drinking.

"She was eighteen…" Mr. McMillan said slowly. His hand and his wife's were clutched together. "She would be nineteen in January. She was going to go off to Miami State next year. My son, Isaac, came home from school and found her car in the driveway…but Taylor was gone from the house. When night came…my wife and I called the police…they reminded us to give it forty-eight hours before contacting the police…but it's _my daughter_…

"We called her friends and no one heard from her…there was a big search party that night…" Mr. McMillan paused and rubbed his eyes.

His wife tugged the sleeve of his shirt and tried her best to smile. She turned to Sam and continued, "Two days later…her body…Taylor was found in the old Prescott Factory about five miles away…_h-her arms…and stomach…and neck… _the writing…"

Sam nodded sadly. He gave the couple a mournful sigh and asked, "How was Taylor _before_…did she act strange at all? Did she say things that might have been odd?"

"I don't understand," Mr. McMillan responded. He and his wife exchanged a look.

"I'm asking these questions because six women have been murdered in the same way…all women…I'm trying to find out if they had any connection to each other in some way. Why were they targeted…"

Mrs. McMillan shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, son, Taylor was an average girl. She made A's and B's…she played lacrosse and was part of the yearbook staff…and she was involved in church – we made sure of that – and…"

"Our daughter went to Sunday and Wednesday night church…" Mr. McMillan finished. "Taylor wasn't involved with anything except for her schoolwork, church and friends."

"Have her friends said or asked about her behavior before she-" Sam started.

Mr. McMillan stood up in his seat, shaking the table slightly. Sam watched as several drops of ice tea collided with the table.

"Son, I think that is enough…_please_…my family has been through enough…" Mr. McMillan tried to say without sounding rude.

He stood up slowly and Sam gave them a sorrowful glance. "I'm sorry."

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was walking down the hallway of the house and reached the front door. Before he could turn the bronze handle, the young boy stood beside him.

"Hi…" Sam greeted softly.

The boy looked up and said, "I'm Max…"

"Hi Max…" Sam smiled. He held his hand out and the boy shook it slowly.

Max looked up and Sam felt so sorry for him suddenly – he had the face as if everything in his world had been destroyed.

"Taylor…" Max started. He choked back some tears and looked up at Sam. "My parents made her go to church."

"They _made_ her?" Sam asked. Confused, he knelt down slowly so he was eye to eye with the brother.

"They said it was _good for her_…" Max whispered. "They said she was blaspheming against God…"

"How?" Sam asked seriously.

Max stuck his hands into his pockets. Tears seemed to form but he was trying to be strong.

"Taylor said things…" Max choked out. "She…she told us one night…th-that while she was in class…she used to dream about things…things about our family…and f-friends…things that were right…Mom and Dad thought she was just dreaming…but then Taylor s-said…she said she _never_ slept through class…"

He reached over and placed a calm grip on the boy's shoulder. Max sniffed back the tears while Sam looked at him. "Max…" Sam asked gently. "Did Taylor tell you that she could _see_ things…"

Max nodded.

O.O.O.O.O.

The Chicago Museum of Art's parking lot was filled with three cop cars and a delivery truck.

Amy and Dean had parked the car by the side of the road and quickly made their way to the entrance. The museum was a gigantic two-story rectangle and painted in a shade of light orange.

The two came to the front and walked up the grand steps toward the five different sets of black-glass doors.

A police officer, standing guard of the entrance ways, saw Amy and Dean coming and took a step forward.

"We're here to see Edward Harris…" Dean said firmly.

"Sorry-" the officer started.

Amy quickly revealed her teacher's ID that she had in her inside pocket. She flashed the card of identification to the large police officer's face.

He nodded and allowed them to pass.

Dean looked at Amy while they went to the doors. "I need to get one of those."

O.O.O.O.O.

The main entry way was mostly just endless halls of paintings. The centerpiece of the hall was a Greek statue of a god.

Amy and Dean looked up at it and turned when a man, most likely Edward Harris, came toward them.

He wore a black suit with a white tie. He was somewhere in his forties and had curly blonde hair. He was smiling handsomely at the two as he approached them.

"Security told me you two were looking for me, I'm Edward Harris," the man greeted and held out his hand.

Dean shook hands with him and said, "I'm Dean Winchester."

"Oh yes, the student," Harris said, "I got your message early this morning."

Harris turned and looked at Amy.

She held out her hand and greeted, "I'm Amy Cromwell, Professor of Art History at Northwestern."

"Ah, Professor Cromwell," Harris replied. "Glad to meet you. So, how can I help the two of you today? Ancient Egyptian history, right?"

"Professor Saton is a friend of mine," Amy responded. "He was just telling me and my student, Dean here, about the Natiskawa story."

"Ah, Natiskawa…" Harris said slowly, smiling. "Daughter of Ramesses III…twentieth dynasty…not a story most hear about."

"My dissertation is mostly about the pharaoh," Dean intervened, "Natiskawa became an interesting topic."

"It is quite an extraordinary legend. Natiskawa and the Magi Cult…" Harris mumbled slowly. "Come, follow me."

O.O.O.O.O.

Harris led them to a section where the Egyptian Treasures opening would take place. A banner was placed high above them in the room. It was vastly decorated with palm leaves and different sarcophagi were being set up. There were glass cases that held fragile artifacts such as jewelry and pottery.

They walked into the large room and held his arms out. He then led them over to the side where some of the sarcophagi were. Amy viewed each piece carefully but Dean pulled at her arm to follow them more quickly.

Taking them to a specific sarcophagus in the back, Harris pointed through the protective glass box.

Amy and Dean looked inside and viewed the Egyptian coffin. Amy's eyes lid up as Dean looked at it closely. The coffin was open – and an old mummy lied there; the remaining yellow teeth could be seen in the corpse's mouth.

"I'd like you to meet Natiskawa…" Harris whispered.

"_Natiskawa?_" Amy exclaimed.

Dean looked quickly at Harris.

"Actually, this is who I _think_ is Natiskawa…" Harris explained. "This coffin in particular is interesting because the Magi writing – these sort of…cat scratches…-were found by the coffin and in the coffin. The Scholars in Cairo have absolutely no idea who this is. For all they know – or care – this could have been a servant of Ramesses."

"Do you have any more proof that this is Natiskawa?" Dean asked.

Harris sighed sadly and said, "We found two different pieces of parchment _in_ the sarcophagus…the legendary Magi writing was found in it…unfortunately…one of the pieces was stolen right when the shipping arrived. Quite a disaster really. It's the reason for all of this security."

"There were _two_?" Amy asked.

Turning, Harris pointed at a small glass case and Dean and Amy walked over toward it. Inside the small glass box was something similar to the artifact Dean had swiped.

"Luckily we still have this one," Harris shook his head.

_Two artifacts…two pieces of parchment_…Dean thought.

Amy turned to Harris and asked, "Sir, tell us about Natiskawa…"

Harris looked back at the mummy in the glass box and turned back to Dean and Amy.

"The Forgotten Daughter of the Pharaoh…" Harris started. "She was denied by her father and the rest of her family. I don't think she was treated badly. Emotionally damaged, yes."

"Professor Saton said it was because of a birth defect or…-" Amy asked.

"She was crazy?" Dean asked.

Nodding, Harris thought for a moment and said, "Yes. Quite right. My sources have told me now that they've gained information from locals – those who know the story quite well – believe it was because of the 'crazy' part. Ramesses was quoted shortly before he died about his daughter's death…he said something like she would 'scream like the servants' and 'babble like the seers'…apparently Natiskawa claimed she controlled some type of power from the gods."

"Seers…you mean psychics?" Dean realized slowly.

Harris nodded meekly and stuck his hands in the pockets of his suit. "The Magi Cult was so obsessed with her…as you know…they stole the Book of the Dead and were able to make a spell for Natiskawa. It was to protect her in life and in death. From what I've heard recently, it was also meant for her to gain power. But she died in her father's prime…so obviously that didn't work…Professor Cromwell, here, come look at this fascinating mummy arm…"

Harris took Amy's hand and led her away from Dean. He watched as they left and turned back to stare at the second artifact.

_She was a psychic…_Dean pondered. _The Magi Cult made a spell to protect her in life and death. Two pieces of parchment…six dead females…and here's her mummy…_

O.O.O.O.O.

"We have a dead-pissed off-psychic-Egyptian princess who has killed six women…why…" Dean explained on the cell phone with Sam.

Dean stood by the mummy sarcophagus – possibly Natiskawa – and made sure Harris and Amy were still a distant away looking at more Egyptian artwork.

Sam, who was driving down through the city, held his cell phone close to his ear and turned momentarily to look at the laptop in the passenger seat and then his focus went back to the road and the conversation.

"Dean," Sam explained quickly, "Taylor McMillan, the eighteen-year-old, the first victim in Evanston…I _think she was psychic_…and I did research on the Carolina Grimes murder…two weeks earlier she broke her arm…you know how – some kid in her neighborhood was playing in the street – the kid gets in the middle of the road – car comes – driver doesn't see him – the kid would have been run over but Carolina pulls him out of the way – in the police report, a witness said they saw her run out of the house and ran straight toward the kid…from her house…she couldn't even see the kid on the street!"

"Wait…the victims are psychic?" Dean asked, flabbergasted.

Nodding to himself, Sam explained more, "And get this…one of the victims was an old woman…she ran a psychic hotline and told peoples' fortunes over the phone…"

"Damn…" Dean breathed. "Sam…Natiskawa was apparently into the whole ESP thing too…AND there's another artifact like the one we have. Different writing, though. We also have a mummy here who could possibly be her. But Sam, in your dream, you saw a _man _kill Carolina Grimes…"

Sam thought for a moment. He – along with Dean – was trying desperately to process everything together.

His eyes slowly lit up and Sam went on, "Dean…I bet you anything the guy I saw in my vision was around the time shipment arrived with the mummy and the artifacts…Natiskawa jumps into his body and uses him as her own puppet – especially to kill."

"But why kill?" Dean asked. He turned back and looked at the mummy. His eyes studied the old brown wrappings and yellow teeth again. Then, he went back and looked at the artifact.

"Sam…" Dean wondered, "some spirits are powerful enough to kill people themselves…we know that…so why does Natiskawa use her special puppet…"

"Natiskawa killed them…" Sam whispered slowly. "Dean…two different times – the same procedure – the man put his hand on the girl and he muttered something in Egyptian and his eyes glowed black – his hand too – and he did this twice…the first time…the girl didn't die…but the second time…"

"She's sucking the life out of them," Dean realized. "But the first time…"

"Psychics…" Sam breathed. "She's taking their _powers_…then their _lives_…"

Dean put a hand on his forehead and turned to look back at the mummy once again.

"I doubt now burning the mummy would help now…if she's taking in psychic energy and life…Sam, dammit, she's getting ready to bring herself back to life…remember…the Magi Cult…they made a spell or something or her so she could be strong in _life and in death_…"

"Dean I don't know what to do now…" Sam exhaled.

The two brothers took everything in slowly.

Dean, biting his lip, said, "We'll meet back at Amy's. You're the only thing we have to figure out how to save the next snack for Natiskawa…"

He hung up.

Turning around, Dean saw Amy walking back to him quickly.

"Well, I've definitely heard enough," Amy sighed annoyingly. She tugged at the sleeves of her jacket and looked at Dean closely. "Are you okay?"

"Sam found out some stuff," Dean explained. "Me too. We need to get back to your place."

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was already inside of Amy's apartment. He sat down on the couch with his chin resting on his fists.

_She's killing female psychics…she's trying to get power…she's killing innocent people…so she can come back_. Sam closed his eyes tight. _Dad, how are we supposed to figure all this out? How do we fight her? Destroy her?_

The door swung opened and Dean ran inside. Amy was directly behind him.

Sam stood up and looked at Dean and Amy. He turned to his brother and asked, "Well, I think we've figured out the culprit. Now, how to take her down."

Dean looked back at Amy and said, "Amy, Sam and I are gonna talk more about this on the balcony."

She was about to protest but Dean and Sam both made their way to the glass doors.

"The basketball court!" Amy randomly shouted after them.

Dean and Sam turned around, giving her a curious look. "Amy, what the hell are you-" Dean asked.

Amy put her hands to her face and then she hugged herself momentarily. She looked up at Dean and Sam with tearful eyes.

"He said…he said 'For someone to deny something so great…they are to be shown their error'…" Amy muttered.

Sam's eyes grew wider; he narrowed them at her. "Amy…"

Amy continued, "She was on the basketball court…she couldn't get away…this…wind…the wind kept pushing her back down…and the man…he was wearing white and black…the woman had a cast on her arm…she tried to fight…he said something in Egyptian and he touched her…there was a black glow…and he did again…and she died…he cut her…three lines that-"

"Looked like a tree," Sam and Amy finished together.

Dean looked back at forth at the two.

Amy took in a deep breath. She touched her neck and rubbed it gently. "Guys…we need to talk about what happened while your dad was here…"

Dean's eyes grew big. He understood now. He looked at Sam who was completely gaping at their old friend. Amy, stuck her hands into her pockets, and bit her lower lip.

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Well, I think I got the major part out of the way. I am trying to move the story along as fast as I can.

I'm pretty glad things are out in the open now in the story.

Hope everyone is enjoying!

Feedback/Reviews appreciated.


	10. Drinking & Writing on the Wall

Chapter Ten

Drinking & Writing on the Wall

The wind was blowing gently against the window. Red and orange leaves could be seen flying by. The sky was much grayer now and the clouds faded away in a smoke-like motion.

There seemed to be an awkward silence in the room. Dean and Sam sat across from Amy in the living room. She took the clip out of her hair and allowed her long strands to fall by her face. She was stressed. She rubbed her head and ran both hands through her hair. Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled – trying to fight back tears.

"Before your dad came to stay with me about two weeks ago…" Amy said calmly, "there was one night before he came…I woke up screaming…I didn't even remember the dream. I thought it was just one of those regular nightmares that I had been having. But it was different. I couldn't get over that _feeling_…I felt like something was wrong.

"Your dad stayed with me…the second night I woke up again…_screaming_…it happened two other times…your dad was there for each one. He made sure I was okay…

"The last two days he was here…he told me that each night I woke up screaming…the first four women had been murdered…

"I didn't understand what he meant at first…and he brought up something that happened a long time ago…"

Sam narrowed his eyes at the young woman. Seeing her in her fray condition, Sam stood up and walked over toward her. He sat down close beside her and put his hand on her back in a comforting way.

"I was sixteen…" Amy continued sadly. "I was haunted…I met with your father one day – you guys didn't know, you never knew – and we talked…he asked why I had called…I told him…I told him that when I was about four…I told him about a dream I had. It's the earliest nightmare I can remember…

"I told him I had a dream about your mom…on the ceiling…she was calling my name…I was only four…I tried to yell for her and suddenly…_blood…fire_…I woke up screaming and crying. My parents came in and asked me what was wrong…I must have just rambled on 'cause they never understood what I was talking about…

"Your dad tried to comfort me. He told me it was okay. John said it was probably just me feeling guilty for the two of you…but then I told him it wasn't about that…I told him that I had that dream _before_ it happened…because after I had the dream the first time…later on that night your dad brought the two of you to my house and told us what happened…I was only four…and I remember the way you looked, Dean…you just looked…and your father…he was s-so…I couldn't admit my nightmare…

"When your dad was with me, guys, he reminded me of that conversation we had ten years ago…he said that the nights I had woken up screaming…they were signs…warnings…he said if I tried hard enough…I could find out directly who was responsible for the women dying…I _tried_, I really did…"

Amy's voice became more desperate. She blamed herself. Guilt swept over her and Amy buried her face into her hands.

Dean stood up and moved closer to Amy. He got down on one knee and rested a gentle hand on her leg. His eyes looked up sadly at his friend and then to his brother. Sam rubbed her back sweetly and whispered, "It's okay, Amy."

"_No, it's not_…" Amy choked out, her head coming back up. "I've tried…I've tried to relax and really _focus_ on everything…I put so much attention on it…I researched those dead girls…I tried meditating…and it wasn't until last night I had a clear dream…"

Sam nodded and his hand moved up to her shoulder and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Amy, _I'm_ having the dreams too…the feelings as well…" Sam admitted slowly. Amy was looking up at him with a less-than-surprised glance.

Dean reached up and touched Amy's arm. She looked down at him, fighting tears. Her brown eyes were sparkling at him.

Standing up, Dean took off his jacket and threw it across the room and into the couch. He looked at his brother and friend and said, "You two are the only way of figuring out how to prevent another murder…"

"How?" Sam almost laughed. "Make us both go to sleep and wait until someone has a dream?"

Dean thought for a moment. He looked at Amy who was trying to pull herself together.

"Amy," Dean asked gently, "how often does this happen to you?"

Amy looked up and explained, "I know that whenever I wake up screaming, it means something bad has happened…and since I was four, I guess, _I've always had good feelings and instincts_ about things…my first year of teaching…I _knew_ exactly who worked really hard or those who cheated on their papers while I was grading them…but it was a bit more than a month ago when my _feelings_ were stronger…I had one really bad night and I woke up crying…I remember exactly when too…August 24th…"

Sam looked at Amy in a frightened way and looked up at Dean. "Dean, Jessica died on that day…"

Dean looked sadly at his brother and then went back to thinking up a plan.

"Alright, well, it's about noon now…I guess we have time to figure stuff out…" Dean explained.

"Dad's journal doesn't help much…_time, meditation, and faith_…" Sam recalled.

Amy looked up and said, "I've done my own research. I basically got the same thing."

Dean quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out the artifact roughly.

"Hey, be careful with that," Amy warned.

Carefully giving it to her, the artifact rested in Amy's palm as she took it from Dean.

She looked up at him with an odd look. Her eyes were asking, 'What is this for?'

Dean said, "Some psychics can get feelings or visions by touching certain things or people…maybe you can get something from that…"

"I've touched it before, Dean," Amy remembered, "and I got nothing the first time…and now…well-the same thing…"

Her fingers traced over the black symbols delicately. Amy's eyes continued to read and inspect the writing.

"It would help if we knew what this meant," Amy whispered.

Sam reached over and Amy gently placed the artifact in his hands. He studied it as well. His large hands touched the old papyrus as his soft brown eyes narrowed at each curve and turn of the writing.

"Natiskawa and the Magi were the only ones who could read this…I highly doubt they'll give a helping hand…" Amy remarked.

Dean shrugged and the three continued to stare at the old Egyptian writing.

O.O.O.O.O.

The same gray apartment gave no sign that man had any loved ones in contact. The man had a dog, but the creature had run away.

The man, dressed in black and white, eyes still dark and sunken in, sat on the couch with his eyes gazing at the past six pictures.

The tail of his white dress shirt had two drops of blood on the edge.

His hands seemed wrinkled, almost deformed. He tried to crack his knuckles but no sound was made.

A smile passed his lips. A feeling of joy arose with every glance of the pictures.

Weakened hands reached into an old pair of black pants. The man stared down at the object in his hands. Slowly, he put the newest picture down on the table.

The image was that of an eleven-year-old girl walking home from school. She had black hair that reached her chin and wore a black jean jacket with brown pants; her backpack was purple with black writing on it.

The grin on the man's face grew wider.

"Just two more…two more…"

O.O.O.O.O.

The blue T-shirt was small but it fit her body composition perfectly. She had the body of a ballerina.

Wind blew gently against her cold skin. Amy hugged herself as her hair blew in the wind. She licked her lips, feeling the cold drying her face.

_Six women…_

Her hand slowly reached up and touched her neck. The images of the dream were replaying in her mind. So, the 'unnatural' in the world existed after all. Psychics, ghosts, and monsters. All real.

_And my friends are the ones fighting these horrible things…_

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the guestroom bed. He continued to put his hands all over the artifact. Nothing. No feeling. No reaction. No vision. Nothing that could help. Absolutely nothing.

Dean came into the room. He stared at his brother for a moment before asking, "Nothing, huh?"

He shook his head and sighed. Sam replied, "I don't know how we're supposed to do this…I think I'm gonna get on Amy's computer and see if I can find some decent psychic 'exercises'…where is Amy?"

"On the balcony…" Dean answered. "Soaking all of this in."

"She doesn't even know half of it…" Sam finished. He stood up and walked past his brother without a second glance.

O.O.O.O.O.

She stared at the city and the autumn trees. Her skin was numb against the cold now.

From behind, Dean was looking at her carefully.

He made the move and stepped outside into the cool atmosphere. Amy made no move or indication that she knew he was there.

Dean, stepping beside her, looked at the scenery with her.

The two, both dressed in different shades of blue, kept their gaze on the bright city.

"I remember when people first said there was something wrong with your dad," Amy brought up gently. Her tone was sweet and she was trying to make a point. "Your dad told all of his close friends what he saw that night…your mom…I remember I heard my parents talking about it one night. My mom said that it was important for us to be there for support…after all…John Winchester was just in shock because of Mary Winchester's death…

"It was because of that we became so close. We went to school together and came back home together…we did the same activities and we usually went to the same places…when you were eight and Sam was four…your father enrolled you guys in special self-defense classes…my dad made me join too…I just wanted to do gymnastics but I remember my dad saying, 'Aimes, my darling, do this for Dean and Sam'…"

Amy turned to look at Dean sadly. "I know you guys didn't have a normal childhood…and that you've never really lived a normal life…why didn't you ever tell me about all this? Why did you just take off – with your dad – to go and hunt those things…"

She was trembling. Dean, noticing this, slowly walked back inside the apartment and came back with his leather jacket in hand.

He smoothly tossed it over her shoulders and closed the black jacket around her. It was several sizes too big for her, she sunk into it like a blanket.

Dean carefully looked into her eyes and tried, "Sam and I didn't grow up with a normal life…we never told a lot of people because…we wanted them to have normal lives…"

Amy nodded and she looked down at her feet for a moment. When she looked back up, she asked, "The same thing that killed your mom…killed Sam's girlfriend…do you know what did it?"

"No," Dean answered gruffly. "But we _will_ find that son-of-a-bitch."

She tried to smile but failed miserably. Instead, all Amy could do was turn back and stare across the city. Dean, just on impulse, stood behind Amy and wrapped his arms around her small waist. She didn't pull away and she didn't find it inappropriate. Instead, she allowed herself to be held.

With a small sigh, Amy turned around in Dean's arms and looked up into his face.

"Dean…" she whispered, "your dad did mention another way of me figuring all _this_ out…"

'How?' his expression asked.

Amy took a hold of Dean's arm and led the way inside.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean and Sam were both in Amy's room. Sam was at the computer. He found the same results over and over again. Some findings were either absurd and ridiculous or just plain stupid.

Amy came into the bedroom and the guys turned to see what she was carrying in her hand.

In one hand she carried a large glass bottle with the black label reading: JACK DANIELS. In the other hand she carefully carried in two shot glasses.

"I don't think it's the time for that…and it's early…" Sam laughed.

Dean smiled at Amy's entrance as she sat Indian-style at the edge of her bed and carefully put the bottle of alcohol and glasses beside her.

"Hey, I'm up for anything…" Dean said.

Amy sighed and said, "It's a gift from your father. He said it's the quickest way of going to sleep…and having dreamless sleep…so…this leaves the mind clear for any type of paranormal premonitions I – or we – may have."

Sam turned in the computer desk chair and narrowed his eyes. "Our dad told you to get drunk?"

Amy simply nodded.

Dean walked over and took the two glasses and the bottle of Jack. He came to the glass desk and began to pour the clear-brownish liquid into the small shot glasses.

"This is the grand plan?" Sam laughed again.

Apparently taking it seriously, Dean took one of the shot glasses and drank the shot himself. He sucked in his cheeks at the taste of the alcohol and then smiled.

"Gotta love Jack," Dean gestured.

"Come on Sam," Amy laughed slightly, "come sit with me."

Rolling his eyes, Sam stood up and sat at the edge of the bed.

_If Dad recommends this…_Sam thought.

Dean handed the Sam and Amy the two full shot glasses.

Amy looked down at her shot and cringed at it.

Sam turned to Amy slowly and said, "Cheers."

Both, at the exact same time, quickly poured the liquid into their mouths in a rushed way. Amy, holding her nose, cringed as the alcohol took but a second to run down her throat.

When they had finished the first drink, Sam pursed his lips and Amy made a noise that sounded like, "Blahhagh…"

"Not much of a drinker, huh Aimes?" Dean mocked.

Amy scowled at him and she, along with Sam, handed him the empty glasses.

"Just keep pouring."

O.O.O.O.O.

Several glasses of Jack Daniels and several Blahhaghs passed before Amy was lying on the side of her bed laughing repeatedly.

Sam, trying to keep it straight, took another shot and clumsily handed the empty glass to Dean.

"Pour s'more bro…" Sam slurred his words.

Dean cocked his head and shrugged, "Okay…"

He poured another glass for his brother and handed it back to him.

Amy slowly rolled over on the bed and landed on the floor.

"Amy," Dean called and quickly walked over to the side where she had fallen.

More laughs and giggles erupted from her mouth. Her shirt had come up slightly with the fall and Amy's hand was lying on her bare stomach.

"That didn't hurt," Amy laughed.

Dean, smiling, leaned over and helped Amy sit up slowly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and her forehead touched his.

Her breath had a strong scent of the alcohol.

"Dean Winchester," she mumbled, "I think you have gottens me vewy drunk in deedy …"

"I just poured the glass, besides, it was your idea…" Dean chuckled. He got Amy to sit up completely, her arms were still draped around his shoulders.

"Dean…" Amy said again, "you're a very nice-looking man…"

"Well thank you, Professor," Dean replied. He stood up slowly, with Amy in his grasp, and the two came up and saw Sam was sitting against the wall taking another shot.

"Had enough?" Dean asked, holding the girl who was now crumbling in his grasp.

Sam looked up and coughed, "Ha! I knew you were gonna get the girl…you always get the girl…"

He thought for a moment and Sam nodded to himself. "Ya know…I think I've had enough…I'm gonna get me to bed and sleep so I can dream…take care, Dean…"

Standing up slowly, Sam made an effort to walked out of the room. Obviously, he couldn't walk in a straight line but continued to miss steps so he wobbled out of the room.

With the sound of the guestroom door closing, Dean looked at Amy was sliding away from his grip.

_This is enough…_Dean thought in a frustrated way.

He picked Amy up like a child and lied her down on the bed. Her head rested on the white pillow and she looked up at Dean with a smug grin.

"So, it's just you and me now, cowboy…" Amy mentioned.

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled. He reached over and his hand rested on her forehead.

"This is quite romanticicic…" Amy slurred. She laughed out loud and then continued to look up at Dean.

"Oh yes, very romantic…" Dean joked. "I got you on a bed…your pretty brown eyes with streaks of red in them looking up at me…oh yeah…"

Amy laughed quietly and her eyes closed for a moment.

"Don't forget what you're focusing on…" Dean reminded.

She nodded slowly Amy's eyes slowly opened up once more.

"Dean…" she whispered calmly. "I think I'm going to sleep…"

"Good, get some sleep…" Dean whispered gently.

Her eyes kept her focus on his face. Dean wasn't sure whether to pull away from her glance or stay with her. It wasn't long before Amy reached up and her hand touched Dean's hand, which was still touching her face.

Ever so slowly, Amy eventually closed her eyes completely and she allowed sleep to overcome her.

Dean kept his gaze down on her. He reached over and carefully pulled Amy's shirt back down to its appropriate length.

"Good night, Amy."

O.O.O.O.O.

Weak, tanned hands were underneath the rushing water of the faucet.

The man was slowly cleaning off the remaining blood stains off the blade of the Swiss army knife.

"Two more," he continued to say, "two more…"

O.O.O.O.O.

Three hours went by and it was now four-thirty.

Dean had the T.V. on but was paying no attention to it. He sat in the comfort of the leather furniture, his hazel eyes gazing out the balcony windows. The sky was darker now, there were still some shades of blue in the sky.

Amy's and Sam's doors were closed.

Dean leaned over the couch and stared down the hallway. He wished that any minute Sam or Amy would come running out of their rooms with information to give. Instead, Dean continued to wait.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy's body was resting on the left side of the bed. Her hands were by her side and she slept unmoving; her chest would rise and fall with every breath.

The ends of her brown hair traced over her chest and blue shirt.

Slowly, Amy's body began to stir.

Her upper body sat up. What was so strange about this…her eyes were closed shut.

As Amy continued to sleep, her body sat up completely in bed. She turned so now her feet and legs were dangling off the side. Her hand moved toward the nightstand beside her bed and her fingers fumbled with the small drawer before she opened it.

Her hand came out of the drawer and her fingers held a Sharpie marker.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean looked down at his watch and sighed. His eyes went to the television but he couldn't focus on what was being shown.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy's body walked over to the wall. She stood before it and slowly her hand moved upward and she pressed the marker against the plain wall.

The marker moved in a sloppy way across the wall. Her hand continued to write.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was sleeping gently in his bed.

_She stood there. Watching him. Her beautiful blonde hair was off to the side so it could reveal her gorgeous face. _

_Sam wanted to cry just to see her. He wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to run and grab her and hold her and never let go._

_Her hands were placed by her side. Wind blew at her silvery nightgown._

"_Sam…" Jessica echoed in the wind. "Sam…"_

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean was now pacing the living room. He wondered if their father's plan would work at all.

_Ha, Dad, just wait till you see Sammy boy now…_

He continued to walk around the living room aimlessly.

There was a loud sound and Dean reacted to it quickly. He ran toward the hallway and completely collided with his brother, who was also running out.

"Sam – Dean!" both brothers yelled at each other.

"Dean, I saw her," Sam quickly explained, "I saw Jessica – I saw Jessica – "

"What'd she say?" Dean asked in a rush.

Sam took a deep breath and he said, "She said…she said she's with us always…"

"Us…" Dean repeated.

Both brothers looked at each other questionably. Suddenly, both young men turned and went back to Amy's room.

They opened the door quickly and Dean reached inside the darkness and switched on the light.

Sam and Dean stopped in their places.

The light revealed Amy standing by the wall and writing something in a black marker. There seemed to be a large paragraph written there.

As Dean and Sam watched Amy do this, they soon found Amy stopped writing. The black marker fell from her hand. Amy's body then suddenly fell to the floor.

Both Dean and Sam ran toward her and found her body resting there gently.

She seemed to awake a bit. Dean and Sam both came to her side and helped her stand. Dean gently helped Amy sit on the side of the bed as Sam sat with her.

"Dean…Sam…?" Amy asked with a yawn. "What happened?"

She rubbed her sore head.

Dean, Sam, and Amy both looked to see what had been written on the wall.

"What…" Amy gasped, staring closely at her own handwriting.

"Well, this may be of some help…" Dean questioned.

Their eyes began to follow the writing:

_Our princess, may the great Eye of Horus and the God Anubis protect you._

_In life and death you shall live and reign in power._

_You shall take in power and life and once again breathe air and move bone._

_Eight lives shall give you the strength, our princess, and each life shall suffice you._

_One of us will protect you in death._

_Eight lives must be given to you and eight lives must witness your glorious return._

_Anhuh taka setwi ronya giy dalynubis_

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Trying to update as fast as I can!

For the record, the above Egyptian phrase, I completely made that up so please do not be offended by my lack of Egyptian language knowledge.

I do intend on writing a special Christmas story after _Meant To Be_ is complete and hopefully the story will be out and done before the holiday!

Thanks for the amazing reviews!


	11. The First Premonition

Chapter Eleven

The First Premonition

"Hi, may I please speak to Pediatrician - Doctor Michael Granger?...yes, thank you…" There was a long pause. "Michael, hey, it's _me_. I just called – sorry to bother you – but I can't do dinner tonight. Some stuff has come up. Give me a call when you can, 'kay? I uh love you, b-bye."

Her hand fumbled to push down the small OFF button on the phone. Amy couldn't understand why she was still shaking. Of course, she had woken up on the floor and found Sharpie written across her wall – in her writing – and Dean and Sam were still in her room figuring things out.

_This is actually happening. Just like the movies or T.V. shows. Where's Buffy when you need her? Or Brendan Fraser?_

Her legs were dangling off the edge of the kitchen island. She sat quietly with the phone by her side. It was around five-thirty now.

_Barely two days…and look what happens…_

Amy buried her face in her hands. She couldn't understand this. _Why me? Why not someone who actually knows how to use this?_

_Why have Dean and Sam suffered so much…_

She looked up when she heard the sound of steps toward her. Sam approached her with a plain smile.

He came into the kitchen and stood beside her – with Amy sitting down on the island, she was now the same height with Sam.

"More than likely it's the artifact's translation," Sam conveyed.

"I don't even remember…" Amy started, unsure of how to finish. "Everything is blank to me…you said you saw your girlfriend?"

Sam nodded slowly. "She said she's _with us_ – us as in Dean, me…and you…"

Revealing himself, Dean came walking out quickly from the hallway. He carried the artifact and a piece of notebook paper where he copied the paragraph written on the wall.

"Does it help at all?" Amy asked.

Dean sighed and shrugged. "We know now that eight people have to die…which means Natiskawa is going after two more people…but the part about the…" He looked down at his handwriting. "Here… 'eight lives must witness your glorious return'…is it talking about the eight she's supposed to kill…or eight more people…"

"I think it's the second theory," Amy added.

Sam nodded. "I agree."

Dean agreed as well. He sighed once again and said, "Well…this is what we've gathered so far…Natiskawa has taken the powers and lives of six psychic females…and she needs two more…and then with her 'glorious return' eight people have to be there…so she's trying to come back…"

"Why is she taking so much time to do this?" Amy asked. "It's been about three weeks now since the murders started…"

Sam thought for a moment and Dean answered, "My guess…she's taken over a human body…and apparently she has this mystic wind which is helping her out – my guess an old Magi spirit – so maybe she's not strong enough or has the ability to do eight people in at once."

"And how does she get to them?" Amy asked.

Sam responded, "She's luring them in…Carolina Grimes went out for her regular routine walks and walked _four miles_ to where she was killed…everyone else was killed in desolate places or in empty buildings…"

"Okay, so, if Natiskawa is going after psychics…why can't these people save themselves? You'd think they'd be able to detect this-" Amy started.

"She's foiling with them," Dean interrupted. "I guess it's part of her power as well."

"You realize she's moving along faster now…" Amy put in. "Which means the last two psychics she needs…she's going to make sure she gets them."

The kitchen grew quiet. The same question was on everyone's minds: How to find the seventh target?

O.O.O.O.O.

The eleven-year-old girl was setting the table with the glass dishes. She was being careful not to drop anything. Her older brother with the same black hair stood beside her pouring drinks. The two talked and laughed in unison. The parents came from the side and joined the table. A mother placed dishes of food on the table and apparently instructed the family to sit down.

Watching from across the street, the man stood by a large oak tree, hidden away from shadows. His pale eyes watched the girl hungrily.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy was out on the balcony wearing her leather jacket. The wind was blowing more frequently and darkness swept across the sky more quickly.

Sam was on the laptop in the living room trying to find a way to translate the Egyptian phrase: _Anhuh taka setwi ronya giy dalynubis_.

Dean was at Amy's computer in her bedroom. He was online finding more information of the Egyptian Treasures opening at the museum. On the screen was a picture of the second artifact presumably found in the sarcophagus of Natiskawa. He stared at the writing closely and compared it with the artifact in his hands. The same type of symbols and Magi writing were found but the order was different – the addition of more Magi writing did not help.

O.O.O.O.O.

The parents were in the den watching T.V. The older boy was sitting at the table, remains of their dinner still left there, apparently doing homework of some kind.

The young girl came out the side of the house with her hand attached to a dark leash which was attached to a small brown Labrador.

Bending down, the girl unclipped the leash and the dog ran free in the side yard.

"Zoë, don't be out long! Once Maxi is done, bring her straight back in!" her mother called out loud.

The little girl responded with a wave through one of the windows.

Zoë clapped her hands together and called for the dog.

There was no answer.

"Maxi! Maxi!" Zoë called out.

Finally, she heard the small whimpering of her dog. Zoë went deeper into the side yard where she searched the large bushes.

When her eyes looked up, she saw her dog scratching a tree with its small claws.

"There you are Maxi," Zoë sighed, relieved.

But suddenly, Zoë turned her head frantically around. There was no one there. But she _felt_ it. "Ok, c'mon Maxi, _time to go_…"

The dog was gone.

"Maxi…" Zoë whispered angrily. She tugged at her black jacket tighter around her.

Slowly, Zoë crossed into the next yard in search of her dog.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam continued his research but the only phrase he could come up with was: The cheese and fish load are broken.

"Damn translator," Sam cursed. He clicked the X box on the corner of the screen and went on with a new link.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy's eyes were narrowed at the trees. Did she see something? Why couldn't she pull her eyes away from the tree? Had there been movement? No. Nothing. It was just the wind. But why was she feeling so paranoid suddenly.

She had a stomach ache now. _Last time I have alcohol, I swear_…

But the pain was now growing stronger. Amy knew it was no longer a pain in her stomach but a nauseated feeling. The pain was rushing through her head. She touched her temple and tried to take deep breaths.

Her heart was racing. She could hear it pounding within her.

_What the hell…_

Everything seemed to be spinning now. Amy closed her eyes for a moment and tried to focus back on what she was looking at…trees…wind…

It was no use. New images were filling her mind now…

_The alleyway…a sign on the street clearly read Red Vine Avenue…_

_The little girl…she seemed happy at first that she had found her lost dog…the dog was barking wildly at her…the little girl took a step forward…she walked into the alleyway…she walked into the dark shadows…_

_He came out from behind her._

_He was smiling…_

_She was screaming suddenly. She fell back against the wind, her black hair flying wildly across her face._

_She cried. She screamed more…_

_Red Vine Avenue…_

When Amy opened her eyes she suddenly found Sam tugging at her shoulders. He was yelling for Dean to come.

Dean approached the two and asked frantically, "What happened?"

"I dunno – she was having a fit or something…" Sam explained.

Amy realized what had happened. She took in a deep breath and cried out, "Christ…oh my God…Red Vine Avenue-"

"Red Vine Avenue-" Sam asked.

"We have to go!" Amy screamed. She took a hold of Sam's sleeve and Dean's shirt. Amy led them out from the balcony.

Dean grabbed his jacket on the couch as Amy dragged them away.

"Amy, what's-"

"RED VINE AVENUE DAMMIT! WE HAVE TO GO! A LITTLE GIRL…!" Amy screamed.

She was followed quickly by the Winchesters as they chased after her out the door.

O.O.O.O.O.

There was no explanation for it. She didn't understand how she had walked so far up the street. She was almost into town now. She looked up and Zoë saw a building made entirely of brick. There were closed, lightless stores up the street.

"Maxi…" Zoë plainly called out. She had to find her dog. So, she continued on her walk.

O.O.O.O.O.

The three sat in the black Impala – Dean driving, Sam in the passenger seat, and Amy sitting in-between them.

"Turn left!" Amy called out.

Dean swerved around a corner and sped up.

"Red Vine Avenue is about three or four blocks away – there are some stores there that I've been too…" Amy muttered.

"You got a premonition," Sam recalled. "What exactly was it of…"

Amy gulped and took a deep breath. "We just have to get there. She's just a little girl…"

O.O.O.O.O.

"Maxi…" she whispered hoarsely. It was colder now. Her jacket wasn't warm enough.

Her hand was limp by her side as she held the black leash in-between her small fingers.

"Maxi…" Zoë whispered.

O.O.O.O.O.

"There there there – go go go! Turn right!" Amy screamed at Dean.

He followed her orders and turned swiftly against the corners. The streets were barely filled and Dean was sure to go fast enough to where the police wouldn't slow them down.

Sam leaned over and opened the glove box.

Amy turned and watched what he pulled out.

He held a black and a metallic handgun in each hand.

"Hope this works," Sam sighed. He checked the cartridges for bullets and found the guns were fully loaded.

She looked at the weapons with wide eyes and leaned back slightly as Sam handed Dean the black one.

"It has to," Dean finished. He turned the corner again and the sound of the tires squealing filled the street.

O.O.O.O.O.

The Labrador seemed to be limping. She whined at the pain on one of her hind legs.

Zoë followed the sound of her dog's cry and walked into an alleyway. "Oh, Maxi…" she sobbed quietly, seeing her dog's pain.

Coming to her dog, Zoë knelt down by the animal and touched its cold fur.

A shadow emerged on one of the brick walls of the alley. Zoë turned around slowly.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Here it is!" Amy yelled. "Keep going down the street – we have to get to the alley!"

Dean increased speed and when they came to the street where the sign of Red Vine Avenue was seen the car stopped abruptly and Sam and Amy came out quickly on one side while Dean came out on the other. The two brothers held the gun tight in their grip as they followed Amy who had taken off down the sidewalk.

Her white sneakers slapped against the pavement and her eye flew wildly behind her.

Amy came to the familiar place she had imaged ten minutes before. Her eyes searched and she found an opening of an alleyway.

She increased the number of her steps and she came to the opening.

Her eyes found the man standing above the girl who couldn't get up from the ground. A dog was sitting behind her, barking loudly.

"HEY!" Amy screamed.

The man turned around and looked at her. His eyes were black and they were glowing with dark light.

Dean and Sam quickly came behind her and they found the man as well.

Zoë was crying loudly and she was screaming, "Help me, please!" Her voice squeaked against the cold wind.

The man was smiling – his gaze was straight at Amy.

Dean stood in front of Amy, ready to fire, but before he could pull the trigger the wind that had pinned the small girl to the ground moved itself and flew toward the three.

Dean and Sam both flew back several feet and they landed back into the street.

_Oh God_…Amy thought desperately.

She did the first thing she thought of: Amy ran as fast as she could at the man to try and push him hard into the brick wall.

But it was as simple as catching a butterfly.

The man grabbed Amy and his large, tanned hand wrapped easily around her neck.

He pushed her into the wall and Amy felt her back collide hard into the wall.

"Agh," Amy cried out, feeling pain rush through her spine and back of her head.

"How interesting…" the man whispered close to her face.

Amy looked deep into the black eyes and she gritted her teeth.

"Bitch," Amy muttered.

The man grew angry and he narrowed his eyes at her. He picked her up with his hand so easily – he was so strong – and he threw Amy off to the side and she fell on her back once more.

He advanced upon the screaming girl once again.

As he knelt down to her, Amy was now suddenly on his back. Her legs were dangled around his waist as her arm wrapped around his neck, trying to choke the life out of him.

He struggled with her. His strength was not of much help now.

When he was finally lowering his body, Amy quickly jumped down and she faced the man completely.

_How dare you_…

Amy suddenly spun around and she back-kicked the man swiftly into the wall. He collided hard and slid down to the ground.

Zoë was still crying when Amy reached her. The small girl was now holding her small puppy in her arms.

Amy helped the girl stand and she brought her face up close with the child. "Go – run home as fast as you can – don't stop running."

Nodding, the child sniffed back the tears and ran away with her dog in her arms.

Before Amy could go and check on Dean and Sam – who were slowly rising from the street – Amy felt a hand around her ankle and she fell on her side.

The man was quickly advancing on her now.

"No!" Amy cried, trying to fight off his arms which were wrapping around her waist.

She kicked and squirmed.

The man slowly looked up and saw Dean and Sam getting up.

Amy felt her body drop back down to the ground.

Her eyes followed the man as he ran to the end of the alleyway and climbed up a black metal ladder against the building. Quickly, he was up on by the top of the roof. Before he disappeared from sight, his eyes went back toward Amy once more.

Amy watched as he disappeared and suddenly heard a gunshot.

Her head turned and she saw Dean and Sam who were both pointing their guns to the top of the building.

Dean and Sam checked the area and both came to Amy's aid.

She stood up on her own and rubbed her sore arm. Her eyes looked down and she saw the leather had torn on her right shoulder.

"You okay?" Sam asked weakly. He rubbed his head in pain and his back ached as well.

Dean, who seemed to have a problem with his knee, cringed at his own pain and took a step toward Amy.

Her face had a slight smudge by her chin.

She nodded to Sam's question.

"The little girl got away," Sam sighed in relief.

Amy looked up to where the man has escaped.

"So, that was Natiskawa…" Amy noted.

Dean took a deep breath and said, "Well, Amy gets definite brownie points – she gets the vision, she doesn't get pushed into the street, she did a kick-ass move…next thing you know she'll be drinking and not going 'Blahagh'…"

Amy smiled briefly.

"Well…one life was saved…" Sam smiled. "I guess we just need to keep reacting to Amy's visions."

"It wasn't the last premonition," Amy sighed. "Natiskawa knows now. And I'm pretty sure she picked up on my psychic ability."

"Damn," Dean cursed. "Which probably means she's ticked off and she has her newest target."

Amy shrugged and cocked her head. "Well, I have my two knights in shining armor. I think it'll be ok."

"We need to find out how to destroy her and fast," Sam replied.

The three nodded in agreement. Sore and in pain, they walked out of the alleyway side-by-side, with Amy in the center.

Walking toward the car, Amy rubbed her sore arm and back. Dean rested a his scratched-up hand on her shoulder and gave her his debonair grin. Amy smiled at his touch and looked down at the blood by his knuckles.

"We'll get cleaned up when we get to my place," Amy sighed.

Dean nodded.

Amy stopped walking. So did Sam.

Dean turned and looked at what they were gazing at.

In front of the car, in the middle of the street, Zoë's lifeless body was sprawled across the black road . Her black jacket was opened and her shirt was torn down the center of her chest. Blood was dripping down her bare side.

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Updating as fast as I can. Just a couple of chapters left before the conclusion. I've decided to sort of do a mini-series of my own of _Supernatural_, following _Meant to Be_. The next _Supernatural_ fic I write I intend it on being a Christmasy story.

Reviews/Feedback appreciated.


	12. New Measures

No worries – I know some have concerns on whether or not Sam will have a bigger part. Don't worry. I could never forget him, in my own opinion, Sam is my favorite character in the show.

This story is dedicated to one of my friends – obviously she has a Dean/Jensen Ackles fetish so…yeah…

Enjoy

O.O.O.O.O.

Chapter Twelve

New Measures

They had just been driving. Just driving. That's when they found the girl's body in the road.

That was the story.

The hospital smelled of clean rubber. It was sickening. People walked to and fro as if life was perfect. Families talked with loved ones in the waiting room and people in wheel chairs were finally able to leave.

Amy hadn't stopped crying. The sight of the girl's body had made her sick several times in the middle of the street.

The worst part was trying to fix themselves up after Sam had called the ambulance. Dean had wiped the blood from his hands on the inside of his shirt. Sam was strong and ignored the pain throughout his body. Amy cleaned her dirtied face and had combed her hair with her fingers.

She was dead. Amy had been able to see the first attack but she never saw the second…and the last.

Her eyes continued to empty themselves of tears. She sat in a brown leather chair against the wall. Her face was deep into her hands as she sobbed quietly.

The police and paramedics had believed their story. There was no suspicion that the three had been involved at all with her death.

But it was the seventh murder now. The little girl's chest had several Egyptian markings cut into the young flesh.

_I saw it the first time…why couldn't I save her again…_

Dean and Sam were walking down the beige hallways with a police officer in-between them.

The officer looked down at Amy and turned to the guys.

"Your friend should be taken home. The family of the girl will be here soon," the officer advised.

Dean nodded.

The police officer walked away and Dean and Sam each sat down beside Amy.

Sam reached over and Amy leaned her body to the side so Sam could hold her tight into his chest.

"_Ssshhhh_…" he whispered in a comforting way. Her sobs had increased.

_I could have saved her again…_Amy thought.

Amy's face was completely wet and red when she looked up.

"We are going to find her," Dean promised. His tone was trying to be gentle but so much anger was building in side of him. _The girl had been saved…why…_

Amy shook her head violently and choked out, "I don't _understand_…"

Sam pursed his lips out angrily.

"We _are_ going to figure this out, okay? I promise we are."

"_Take me h-home_," Amy pleaded with difficulty, choking on her words.

O.O.O.O.O.

_She needs one more…_

Amy, Dean and Sam entered her apartment in dead silence. The sound of the clock ticking was the only noise.

Her face had gained color again, but Amy was doing her best to not break down.

Her body slowly made its way to the living room and Amy sat down on the couch.

Dean and Sam looked at each other.

"I don't understand…how this happened," Sam choked out. "The girl was gone and safe…and he…Natiskawa…"

Dean wiped his hand across his mouth. His eyes looked at Amy who was staring out the window.

"We're going to do all we can to prevent anything else from happening…I swear…I'll _snap_ her neck if I have to," Dean hissed angrily. He was so angry he wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to punch that man – Natiskawa in that man's body – he wanted to break everyone bone in that horrid body.

Sam nodded slowly. He looked at Amy and shook his head. "I can't believe we got her involved."

"We didn't," Dean corrected angrily. "This is Amy's life. Unfortunately, it runs along with ours. But as soon as we're done with this…all we can do is hope that Amy can go on with a regular life…"

O.O.O.O.O.

_Seven-forty-five…_

Amy had her hands folded in her lap. She looked at the carpet and her eyes looked up when Dean walked over her feet and sat close to her in the leather couch.

"Are you okay…" Dean asked gently.

His tone was different with her. Even though he was just trying to comfort her, Dean couldn't cover up the anger inside of him.

Amy nodded slowly and whispered, "I will be…eventually…it's just all sinking in now. An innocent little girl died and I'm not sure how…it's all my fault Dean…"

Her eyes welled up in tears once more. She fought them back and touched her moist face.

Dean shook his head and wrapped his arm around Amy's shoulder.

"_Don't you dare_ blame _yourself_," Dean hissed at her. "_She did it_…_she kept you from seeing_…"

Amy leaned against him and her face fell into his shoulder. Dean held her tight against his jacket and chest. His chin rested on her head as Amy tried her best to not cry anymore.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed. He looked across the room and looked into the mirror that was hung directly in front of him in the guestroom.

_How could this happen…we failed_…

His eyes continued to stare into the mirror. He hated himself. He wished all of this was over. He wished Natiskawa was dead. He wished he could kill her himself.

Looking up, Sam watched as Dean and Amy came into the room.

"What do we do now?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at Amy and then at his brother. "I bet that Natiskawa is going to come after Amy…she knows who she is…she knows she's a psychic…and she's probably pissed off."

Sam looked at Amy in a concerned way.

"It's okay, kiddo," Amy said in a comforting way. "She comes near me…the three of us will do what we need to."

O.O.O.O.O.

Two shotguns, several different types of weapons – mostly blades – and the two handguns were lying across Sam's bed.

Dean and Sam grabbed more supplies from two separate duffel bags and placed them on the bed.

"It sure has been a fun two days, hasn't it…" Amy joked dryly. No one smiled, not even her.

"Natiskawa has had her last fun…now we get to have ours…" Dean muttered, placing more ammo into the shotgun.

Amy crossed her arms above her chest. "I'm going to try and get another vision. I'll do what I did before. It was strange…I never felt like that before…I was really focusing…"

"If you focus hard enough, I doubt Natiskawa can block off your images…" Sam noted.

Amy agreed. The young woman walked to the opposite side of the hallway and entered her bedroom. She closed the door – Dean and Sam heard the sound of her locking it as well.

Sam looked at the weapons spread across his bed. He could feel the hard stare from his brother.

"What?" Sam asked, not meeting Dean's gaze.

Dean placed the shotgun back on the bed. He reached down taking a simple dagger with a black handle and slipping it into his black boot – Dean could feel the blade slide in between his ankle and the boot. He removed the blue dress shirt and Dean was now just in a plain white T-shirt. His eyes looked down at the watch on his wrist and his eyes looked down to meet with Sam's.

"We need to talk about Jessica…" Dean said slowly. "You had a dream about her…she said she's _with us_…you're going to have to focus on _her_…"

Sam nodded. "I don't understand why Amy is the one having the visions and I'm just having dreams about Jess…none of this makes sense. We've never dealt with something this complicated before…"

A sigh barely came from his mouth. Dean stiffened and stared down at all the guns and blades on the bed.

"I thought about something, Sammy," Dean started. He looked at his brother and continued, "This thing…whatever it is that killed Mom and Jessica…it's still around. It's still haunting us. Now I'm actually pretty scared…for Amy…I think she can take care of herself…but now…"

Sam nodded and he ran a hand through the shaggy brown hair that grazed the sides of his forehead.

"First, we figure out a way to protect Amy from Natiskawa…and then we'll worry about that bastard…" Sam muttered.

Dean nodded and he put his hands on his waist.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy was sitting on the floor. Her legs were folded so she sat Indian-style. She had changed her clothes – a fresh pair of jeans and a clean white tank top (one that was slightly low along the neckline); Amy's long brown hair was brushed back and dangled gently on the revealed flesh of her back.

The artifact rested in the palm of her hands. Amy continued to look down at the old piece of Egyptian writing. Her eyes went to her white wall – now with black Sharpie written over it – and turned back to the artifact.

Her other hand reached down beside her and Amy's fingers searched through the carpet before she found what she was looking for – a thin, long metallic needle.

Amy thought for a moment. _Please work…please work…_

She took the needle easily between her thumb and two other fingers. Taking in a quiet breath, Amy took the needle and slowly pricked her opposite finger. She bit her lip slightly when she saw the small bubble of blood appear.

Amy put the needle – its tip stained in blood – beside her on the carpet.

Her eyes continued to stare at her bloody finger – more was coming now and the blood was about to drip down her finger.

Her finger touched the artifact, now on the floor, and Amy pressed her wounded flesh against it. The blood soaked through the papyrus and a circular shape of blood formed around Amy's finger against the artifact.

Amy stuck her finger into her mouth quickly to clean it. Large brown eyes looked at the artifact which was now stained with a small circle of her blood.

Both hands grasped the artifact tightly. Amy closed her eyes.

_Focus…focus…Natiskawa…Natiskawa…_

There was a strange feeling growing inside again. It was the same feeling from back at the balcony…

_Natiskawa…Natiskawa…_

The pain. It erupted so fast in her head Amy almost wanted to stop her concentration. Her stomach felt sick.

_Natiskawa…Natiskawa_…

It felt like she had completely left the world.

Colors rushed passed her.

Wind…_warm air_…

She could actually feel her hair blowing behind her. A gentle breeze pressed against her chest and the top part of her breasts. Even her stomach, slightly exposed, had Goosebumps from the wind.

A girl was sitting down with her. Amy was so surprised by the new presence but she didn't yell or call for help.

Everything around her was foggy. The only thing that was clear to Amy was the young woman who sat in the same position as her.

She had gorgeous blonde hair and pretty eyes. Her face was expressionless but she showed so much beauty. She wore a silvery nightgown with thin spaghetti straps.

"Who are you?" Amy asked, her voice sounding like an echo.

The girl gave her a small smile and said, "Tell him how much I love him. Tell him everything's okay."

"Him?" Amy asked.

Her soft, echoing voice repeated, "It's all okay…Sam…tell him that…and tell him…I am with you…"

"Jessica…" Amy gasped slightly. The fog around her was growing thicker. "You're Jessica. Please, you have to help – seven innocent women are dead – a little girl just died tonight – you have to help…"

"I can't help with that…" Jessica whispered softly. "But I can help you…I'm here to help you…"

"Help _me_?"

The young blonde nodded.

"You have to accept everything that happens…" Jessica echoed. "You must have faith. Not in just Dean and Sam…but yourself. That is the only way anything will ever be worked out…that is the _only way_ lives can be saved…" Jessica paused shortly. "You have to be careful and ready. You have to clear your mind. Natiskawa is very angry…she knows you…she knows who is helping you to destroy her…and she'll come after them…and then you…_you must have faith_-"

"But I do!" Amy protested angrily. "I had the vision of that little girl-"

"You're not strong enough…you would have had a second vision of the final attack on Zoë…but Natiskawa was able to intervene…once you can fully accept everything…that is when lives can be saved…it's the only way…"

Amy thought about the girl. Zoë. That was her name.

_And she's dead. Because of me._

Amy looked around. She was still on the floor of her bedroom. The artifact was still in her hands, the blood as well.

Tears were filling up her eyes once more.

"Amy?" Sam's voice was heard behind the door.

She took in a deep breath. _Don't cry, dammit._ "Yeah?" she called out.

"Nothing, just checking on you…" Sam explained.

Amy touched her cold cheek. "It's ok. I tried to get a vision…I uh…I got nothing. I'll be out in a minute."

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy came out of her room carrying a black zip-up hoodie and she had put black heals on.

Dean and Sam were in the living room watching T.V.

She stopped at the end of the hallway. The T.V. was on the news channel.

"…Zoë Brooks wandered away from home earlier this evening…her older brother, Oliver, came outside to find his sister was gone…we're here at Sandy Woods Hospital…it's very unfortunate to report Zoë Brooks was found dead on Red Vine Avenue by a couple of bystanders…she is now the seventh victim of the Egyptian murders-"

The T.V. was turned off. Sam dropped the remote once he found Amy staring at the television screen.

The room grew silent.

Amy sighed and she walked toward the living room. She put her jacket on the arm of the couch and stuck her fingers into the pockets of her jeans.

"It's okay," Amy tried weakly.

Dean had changed into a plain black T-shirt and denim jeans; Sam now wore a gray hoodie underneath his brown jacket – the hood sticking out of the jacket.

"So, what do we do now?" Amy asked.

Dean sighed and shook his head.

Sam couldn't answer.

There was a severe knock at the door. The three of them barely turned at the anxious sound against the door.

"Great…" Amy sighed.

She walked across the carpet and made her way toward the foray. She opened the door with the intention of sending away whoever it was.

Michael.

He seemed tired. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a maroon shirt underneath his black trench coat. His eyes were looking at Amy with concern.

Michael entered the apartment and wrapped his arms around Amy's shoulder.

"Amy, are you okay?" he asked desperately. He choked at his words.

"Michael-" Amy asked questionably.

"One of the nurses told me she thought she saw you at the hospital tonight," Michael explained quickly, "with two other guys…she told me the three people she saw were the ones who brought in that little girl-"

"I'm fine, really…" Amy tried convincingly.

Michael hugged her quickly. His hands were wrapped around her waist and Amy buried her face into the collar of his coat.

It felt wonderful to be held against him so tight. This was why she loved him so much. Amy continued to hold Michael back.

Dean and Sam revealed themselves.

Michael looked up and turned to the guys. "You found the little girl…"

Sam nodded and said, "Yeah."

Michael shook his head sadly. "It's terrible. Another murder…the seventh one…"

Amy nodded slowly. Michael reached for her hands and he held them in his grasp. He pulled her hand to him and he gently placed a kiss on it.

She turned the guys and then to Michael. The four of them walked back into the living room and Michael continued to hold Amy's hand in his.

Dean and Sam both looked at each other and then at Amy. It was a signal: Amy had to tell Michael to leave.

Amy scratched her head oddly. She couldn't tell Michael to leave. Nor did she want him to.

She dropped Michael's hand and Amy reached for her hoodie that was on the couch. "I'll be right back, I'm going downstairs to the car…I left my cell phone in there…"

"Amy-" Dean started.

"I'll be right back, Dean," Amy snapped.

Not looking back at either of the three men, Amy put on the hoodie and zipped it up to beneath her breast.

She stuck her hand into her pocket as she left the apartment and out the door.

O.O.O.O.O.

"I still don't understand…you guys found her…poor Amy…she didn't handle it well, did she?" Michael asked. He was nervously rubbing his hands together.

Sam shook his head and said, "She was traumatized at first…but she's okay now."

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy was out in the dark parking lot. She took several steps to the mini cooper and was able to see her cell phone lying in the cup holder of her car through the window.

Before her hand reached the handle…

_Professor Saton was at his desk…the old man wore a brown sweater and his glasses…_

_He was grading papers…_

_A shadow._

_Natiskawa…_

Amy opened her eyes to find she was looking just at her car.

"_Ian_…" Amy gasped.

Her hand trembled and she quickly opened the car door and jumped in the driver's seat. She found the spare key underneath the seat and quickly turned on the ignition of the car.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Where _is_ Amy?" Michael asked sadly. She had been gone too long.

Sam had his hands in his pockets – suddenly, the three men in the room heard the sound of his cell phone going off.

He looked down at the cell phone in his hand and Sam answered it.

"Amy?" Sam asked.

"Sam!" Amy shouted through the phone. All three men could hear her clearly. "Professor Saton! She's going after him! Get to the university ASAP! Call the police!"

"Amy-" Sam shouted back but she had already hung up.

"What the _fuck is happening_-" Michael started.

The doctor looked confused at the two young men who ran past him and ran toward the door. Michael followed closely behind.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy was driving so fast. No police followed her. She sped down the street and went by faster than the cars in either lanes.

Her eyes were focused on the street and the destination.

_Ian_…Amy thought sadly.

O.O.O.O.O.

Professor Saton was sitting at his desk. He still had a large stack of essays to grade.

_It's Saturday…and I'm bloody here…_the old man thought sadly.

He continued to dab at papers with his red pen.

The professor didn't even notice the shadow that stood in the doorway.

The auditorium was lit with only one light – the light at his desk.

Turning, the professor saw the shadow move inside.

"Can I help you?" the British voice asked.

O.O.O.O.O.

The white mini cooper parked with a screech in the Northwestern parking lot. She grabbed her keys from the ignition and jumped out of the car. She didn't even close the door.

O.O.O.O.O.

The sound of her heals were loud against the wooden steps.

Amy ran desperately down the hall and she saw the opening of Professor Saton's classroom – Auditorium 3.

When she came to the doorway she saw the man – Natiskawa – leaning over Professor Saton on the floor.

"Get away from him!" Amy shouted loudly.

Natiskawa, in the man's body, turned and smiled devilishly at her.

Professor Saton, still alive, looked at Amy with fearful eyes.

"Amy!" the old man cried out.

Amy kept her gaze on Natiskawa.

"My friends AND the police are coming…" Amy warned.

Natiskawa continued to look at her. The man's lips were smiling.

_She killed all of them…she killed Zoë…_

She advanced on Amy suddenly.

Amy felt her body being pinned against the wall. The man's breath was thick against her face.

"Such a good waste of power…and life…" the man's voice spoke.

"Really…" Amy whispered back. Her hand was secretly moving against her back and from the back of her pocket, she pulled out a small metal contraption that was the size of a small rectangle.

"You really wouldn't like me," Amy spat. "Especially after this-"

Amy pressed something against the metal rectangle and a small blade came out immediately.

With a loud cry, Amy took the blade and swung her hand into the man's body. The blade made perfect contact with the stomach.

Natiskawa screamed – the man's yell filled the auditorium.

Amy felt the release of her arms and she was free.

She fumbled back, Natiskawa's large hand covering her small, bleeding wound.

There was a loud thud outside the auditorium and Amy could hear the sounds of Dean, Sam, and Michael's voices.

When Amy turned back to look where Natiskawa was standing…she was gone…

She ran desperately to the old professor who was lying beside his desk.

"Dear Amy…" Professor Saton sighed. "That man…he said-he said…"

"Sshhh, Ian," Amy whispered, "help is on the way."

"Amy," he replied weakly, "he said eight more…eight more…he told me it was no use…"

"Ian, professor, sir, please…" Amy begged. "It's okay. Just rest-"

"Children…" he coughed out.

Amy rested her hand on the old man's face in a comforting way. Her eyes were asking the questions.

"Children…eight of them…that man said he was going to have eight of them…and then he said…then he said he's coming after _you_…"

Dean, Sam, and Michael rushed into the classroom.

Sam came to the old man's side as well and reported, "Police and an ambulance are on the way-"

"Sir," Michael asked gently, getting down on his knees beside the professor, "how do you feel? Are you in pain? How's your head-"

"Quite alright old chap…" the professor laughed weakly. "My bum is the only thing that hurts."

Dean got down beside Amy and rested a hand on her back.

Amy turned to Dean and Sam, who were surrounding her, and said, "It was Natiskawa – she was going after Ian because he supplied us with the information…she was trying to lure me in-"

"Natiskawa-" Professor Ian asked.

"Eight kids," Amy continued, "she's going to have eight children – as her witnesses – that's how she's going to lure me in. That's all she needs now – is on psychic – me…"

"What?" Michael asked. He and the professor exchanged an odd look.

Dean looked down at the old man on the floor who was utterly at a loss of words.

"It's okay, professor," Dean tried, "you're just imagining the whole thing – it's the concussion – Natiskawa is a dead mummy – don't worry – soon you'll see little birdies flying-"

"Hey, _I'm not_ imagining things…" Michael snapped. He looked at Amy, who was also at a loss of words.

"You're all involved in the murders?" the doctor asked.

Amy tried, "Michael, I'll explain it to you later-"

"And if you're a good boy and keep your mouth shut when the police get here, you might just get a cookie," Dean snapped back.

"Excuse me?" Michael asked angrily. "When the police get here, I'm going to tell them what I just heard. You're going to kidnap eight kids – and who's going after my girlfriend-"

"Michael, please," Amy begged. "We're helping. Trust me."

"Then why not talk to the police-" Michael asked.

"Dude, fine, we'll tell you…" Dean muttered. "We're CIA – my brother and I. And this is our case. So, if you tell anyone, we're going to have to shoot you-"

"Dean-" Amy and Sam growled.

"Ah, I see what this is now…" Michael snapped. "A bunch of vigilantes who want the glory of saving the day – well I won't have it – and you're involving my girlfriend-"

"Michael-" Amy begged again.

"Listen to your girlfriend, doctor," Dean warned.

"Dean-" Amy tried again.

Sam, with a frustrated cry, leaned over and his fist collided with Michael's face.

The doctor fell onto his back with a thud.

Amy looked furiously at Sam and cried, "SAM! What the hell-"

"Look," Sam explained, getting up. "I'm going to take Michael back to the car before the police get here. We can explain things, or try to, later…"

Sam quickly picked up Michael's body.

"Please just don't hit him again-" Amy asked sadly.

"Yeah…let ME do it…" Dean chuckled.

Amy punched Dean's arm as hard as she could.

"Hey-" Dean fought back.

Dean quickly got up and helped Sam with Michael's unconscious body.

"We'll be back, tend to the professor," Sam said.

Amy rolled her eyes at them and looked down at Ian, who was squinting at the ceiling.

Dean and Sam left the room quickly with the doctor's body.

Amy looked at the professor and asked, "Are you alright?"

Professor Saton was quiet at first. He squinted once again and slowly said, "I don't think I see any birdies…"

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Just three or two chapters left, I believe…hope everyone is enjoying! Reviews/feedback appreciated.


	13. The Big Bad

Chapter Thirteen

The Big Bad

Two cop cars were parked in crookedly in the front part of the courtyard. Students were out of their dorms checking on the events taking place. The street already began to grow several large groups of Evanston residents – all curious by the sound of police sirens and the sight of blue and red flashing lights. It was now officially dark and almost seven o'clock.

Professor Saton was okay. The paramedics thought his blood pressure was a little off so the old British man was on a stretcher, on his way to the hospital. He wore a breathing mask across his gentle face and his hand was resting above his chest on the brown fabric of his sweater. The professor was about to be hauled into the back of the ambulance when his head turned and he gave a small smile toward the street.

Sam, Amy, and Dean stood side by side, smiling and waving at Professor Saton. The old man smiled happily and even let out a quiet chuckle. His body vanished into the back of the ambulance and moments later the vehicle sped down the street and made its way toward the hospital.

Amy let out a small smile, a happy sigh. She stared up at her tall friends and quietly offered, "Let's get back to my place."

The Winchesters followed her, each smiling to themselves.

A life had been saved. It didn't feel like it made up for the loss of the little girl, but it was a start.

O.O.O.O.O.

Michael slept quietly in the back of the black car. Sam walked to the passenger side and got into the car.

Dean, paused before getting in, and turned to Amy.

"You did good," Dean tried to say in a congratulating way, but there was still the Dean-sarcastic tone to it.

Amy nodded and bit her upper lip. "I'll try and keep it up. I'll be right behind you. If Michael wakes up…please don't hit him…"

There was _that look_ again. For a moment, Amy was actually able to picture the seventeen-year-old version of Dean Winchester: the badass, the punk, the one who defied all authority. But Amy smiled also at the thought of the new version of Dean in front of her.

Dean nodded mocked, "I'll calmly tell him to go back to sleep. Don't worry. Now get in the damn car and get home, Cromwell."

She let out a small laugh and turned her back on the '69 Impala.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean and Sam were both waiting in the parking lot for Amy. It wasn't long for the white mini cooper to pull up beside their car. The apartment complex was quiet and the stars had already begun to glow.

Amy quickly came out of the car and slammed the door. "Is he awake?"

"He's a-stirring…" Dean noted.

Amy walked around the car and handed her keys to Sam. She motioned them to go up and they followed. Dean paused and watched as Amy opened the back door of his car.

"Let's go," Sam ordered. He and Dean looked back at Amy who was slowly waking the doctor-boyfriend.

Amy, in the car, had Michael's head now in her lap.

"Michael, honey? Are you okay?" she asked softly.

His intense blue eyes opened. His first reaction to coming back to reality: the pain in his jaw.

"I'm going to kill them," Michael playfully moaned as he touched his chin.

Amy stroked the side of his face with her finger. "Sshhh…don't say that…"

"Why'd he hit me, Amy?" Michael snapped. His head turned slightly and Michael noted that they were back at her apartment. "And what the hell happened back there?"

_Tell him 'I'm a psychic – duh'…_

"Michael…" Amy whispered gently. "It's hard to explain. I'm not sure how to tell you. Dean and Sam have been here for less than two days and so much has happened…but this thing…_this thing_ with me…it's been around a lot longer…"

He touched his jaw painfully again. Michael sat up in the back of the car and stared directly into her eyes.

"Amy, just tell me…please…I want to understand…" Michael pleaded with her. He reached up and touched her face. "I love you…you know that."

She felt Michael lean over and Amy's eyes closed slowly as she felt the pressure of his lips against hers. Amy let herself go into the kiss. She knew she loved him. Eight months _had_ to mean she loved him. But could she tell him?

_Will he understand?_

Michael pulled away slowly but kept his face close with Amy's. She gave him an unsure look and sighed.

O.O.O.O.O.

"What just happened was…" Sam started. He and Dean were out on the balcony and stared into the black abyss of sky and stars.

"I know…" Dean finished for his brother.

Sam had a tight grip on the metal banister as he stared out into the city. "Why am I seeing Jessica…Dean? I don't get it…any of _this_."

"None of this crap does, Sammy," Dean commented. "Dad has spent the last twenty-two years killing every evil thing that comes in his way of trying to find out what killed Mom…and look at _us_…you may have tried to lead a normal life – but we never can…

"I don't know what type of psychic abilities you have…so far you've just been seeing Jessica…maybe it was just with her…or maybe only time can tell what's happening to you."

The younger brother stared into the darkness. The only pain he could suffer was the loss of Jessica. Of course, it was a great weight on his conscious that he wasn't as passionate of finding his mother's killer at an earlier age…but he couldn't remember her. He was just an infant. He had never truly loved his mother. The Mary Winchester he knew…was the one Sam saw through pictures and stories.

"As soon as we figure all of this out…we gotta go and find Dad…" Sam sighed.

The two brothers turned at the sound of the door opening. Amy and Michael entered the apartment. She unzipped her hoodie but kept it on. The two searched the room for the guys and found they were out on the balcony.

Sam and Dean walked back inside from the chilly weather.

"Sorry," Sam immediately said, seeing Michael touch his sore face.

Michael nodded and turned to Amy. "I want to know what's going on…"

Amy turned to Sam and Dean – her face sad.

"I want to try and explain to Michael…he wants to understand…_and I want him_ to know," Amy admitted weakly.

Dean and Sam stared at each other and then at Michael.

Amy took Michael's arm and led him to the couch. The couple sat down together as Dean and Sam sat across from them.

Her fingers were clasped tight around the sleeve of Michael's jacket.

"Well?" Michael asked, silence growing within the room.

Dean sighed and shook his head. "This isn't exactly us giving a history lesson, doctor." His tone was obviously frustrated.

Sam looked at Michael and took a deep breath. "Dean and I have been on the road for more than a month now…we are in the detective business, sort of…but not the type you think…"

"What do you think of ghosts? Monsters…goblins…" Dean asked harshly.

Michael, taken back, widened his eyes for a moment and responded, "Wait…like…hold on, I don't understand the question."

"Do you _believe_?" Sam asked.

He looked at Amy as if asking, 'Are you kidding me?' Amy returned the glance with a weak, half-smile. Michael turned back to Sam and Dean.

"It's ridiculous to believe in these things. Monsters and creatures…they're just hallucinations-"

"We're not hallucininating…lying…or retelling fairy tales…" Dean added. "The big bad are out there. Monsters. Ghosts. Spirits. Right now, we're dealing with an Egyptian princess who is taking out her anger on innocent people – and Amy here is the final target."

"What-" Michael gasped, turning to Amy. "Amy, you can't believe what they're saying-"

"Michael…" Amy comforted calmly. "You know…my nightmares? The night terrors? You've been there to witness some of them…whenever that happens to me…it's a sign that something terrible has happened. But now my nightmares are more vivid…I actually remember them…I saw the sixth victim – Carolina Grimes – die…and I saw Zoë Brooks about to be killed…but we couldn't save her…"

There were no words to describe the way Michael was feeling. Shocked? Surprised? Disbelief?

"No no no…" Michael said slowly. "This isn't right-"

"I knew Professor Saton was going to be attacked," Amy said quickly. "_I knew it_. I knew it, Michael."

Sam added, "Psychics are real…most people go through their lives not even knowing they possess the powers…everyone in this world has some psychic connection to the paranormal. Amy has it…and so do I…"

"The man that was about to hurt the professor…it's an old, Egyptian princess from the _twentieth dynasty_…she's taken over his body and used it to kill seven innocent females. She needs one more…and she needs eight witnesses…she's trying to come back to life…" Amy explained further. The words were almost unreal, even to herself.

He was shaking his head again. "No…this can't be real. It's not right. It's not natural."

"Eighty percent of the United States will live their lives never knowing that those 'unnatural' things exist at all," Dean informed. "My brother and I spent our entire lives learning about these things. One in particular killed our mother and Sam's girlfriend. Our father was in Chicago for the same reason…"

Amy put her hand on Michael's shoulder. "I know it's hard to understand…I really couldn't bring myself to believe it until John came."

Michael slumped his shoulder – allowing Amy's hand to slide away from his touch.

He stood up and Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "You're all crazy."

Michael moved away from the living room and started to slowly pace the white carpet.

"Michael, please," Amy pleaded with him. She wanted him to understand. "This is all real."

"You heard her on the phone…you knew she left the moment the professor was about to be attacked…" Sam explained.

Dean stood up and stuck his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

Michael was looking directly at Dean. But then the doctor's eyes went to Amy, who was now standing up as well.

"Amy…I think I need to take you and your friends to the hospital…" Michael whispered calmly.

"I'm _not _crazy!" Amy shouted back.

"Well you may not be –_ they've_ brainwashed you or something! _They're_ crazy!" Michael shouted back, pointing at the Winchesters.

"Hey, we've heard that since we were kids…" Dean mocked.

Amy went to Michael's side and reached gently for his wrist.

"Michael…I _love_ you. Okay? You get that? I'm telling you that all this is _real_…whether or not you like the word 'psychic'…it's what I am. Sam too!"

"Amy…you're having problems…I know, okay?" Michael whispered gently.

Amy's eyes widened. "Don't you dare bring _that_ up! That was _seven _years ago-"

"You can get help _again_, Amy, dammit! We-" Michael started.

"Help?" Dean repeated cautiously.

Michael turned to Dean and Sam and yelled, "When Amy first started university-"

"Michael-" Amy warned.

"She never told her friends this – she told me later on – Amy saw a psychiatrist…her parents were so upset about Amy's night terrors they finally got her to see a professional…and you rambled on just like this…and then one day you just stopped bringing up these sorts of things-"

"Michael!" Amy shouted. She took a deep breath and turned to Dean and Sam who were both staring at her questionably.

"I…" Amy started. "I did see a psychiatrist for a while…but then I realized that no one would ever believe the things I could _see_ and _feel_…that's why my parents have always been so over-protective of me-"

"We're going to get you help…" Michael repeated. He took Amy's hand into his and gave it a tight squeeze. "We're going to get you and your friends help, okay?"

"I _do not_ need help…" Amy muttered angrily. "And I'm not a damn child or one of your patients…"

Dean took a step forward and he growled, "Get your damn hands off of her _now_…"

Michael glared at him and snapped, "Don't worry, biker boy…we're going to get you help."

Sam moved around and quickly came to Amy's side. He stepped in front of Amy and Michael and forced the doctor to let go of his girlfriend's wrist.

Amy was staring at Michael sadly.

_Please believe me…_

Michael glared up at Sam and turned to look at Amy who was staring at him past Sam's shoulder.

"We're going to do our job, Mike," Sam snapped angrily. His hands were balled into fists. "And then we're going to be off on the road again…all we're asking is that you _look _at your girl…and understand…"

Michael shook his head angrily. "I can't accept this."

He turned and walked away.

The three watched as Michael made his way to the hallway and to the door.

_Michael_…Amy thought sadly.

As Michael opened the door…

His body was suddenly flying back across the room. Amy let out a terrifying scream as she watched Michael's body be pushed back into the living room by a powerful wind. Amy screamed again when Michael landed on top of the couch and his body rolled right off of it.

"_Michael!"_ Amy yelled.

But Amy froze where she was. Her hands were suddenly on Sam's arm – her nails digging into his jacket.

Dean came to Amy's other side – gun in hand and pointed at the target.

The man – Natiskawa – walked out of the hallway-foray. Blood was stained all around near the stomach of the shirt.

She smiled evilly at them, the man's dark, sunken eyes wide in horrific joy.

Dean pulled the trigger twice.

The two gunshots forced Amy to push herself into Sam's arm and the two got down to their knees.

Sam looked up and in fear saw the two new bloody marks in Natiskawa's chest. The white dress shirt was now completely soaked in blood on the front.

But to their horror…Natiskawa was still smiling…and now laughing…

"View my _glory_!" Natiskawa yelled – the man's voice was loud, deep, and weak.

Amy and Sam stood up and Dean took a step forward so he was somewhat in front of Sam and Amy.

"So, you're Natisasky…" Dean greeted sarcastically. "I thought you'd be a lot hotter-"

The wind came across Dean so fast- no one was ready for it.

Dean's back made hard contact with the back wall and he fell onto his side.

"DEAN!" Amy shrieked. She turned her head and saw Natiskawa advancing on them.

Amy stood in front of Sam and yelled, "It's me you want – leave them alone-"

Sam moved Amy safely to the side and he ran at Natiskawa.

He threw a punch and his fist made perfect contact with the man's face.

Blood was now dripping down the man's lip. He smiled – revealing blood-stained teeth.

Natiskawa grabbed Sam up by the neck and spat, "Irrelevant boy…"

Sam was now flying across the room. He hit the wall as well and fell next to Dean.

Amy was staring at Natiskawa – she was trying to look brave and confidant but her fear was being fed off by the man.

She ran at her – and Amy readied her fists – and she threw a punch.

Amy hit Natiskawa as well, across the jaw. She was smiling and laughing – the man's voice booming through the apartment.

She did what she thought of next – Amy spun around and tried to high-kick Natiskawa.

Amy felt her ankle being grabbed and her eyes saw that Natiskawa's strong hand was wrapped tightly around her ankle.

Natiskawa grinned and turned her hand quickly.

Amy screamed in pain as she felt her ankle being twisted.

Natiskawa then pulled at Amy's leg and grabbed her shoulder.

The two faces were brought together – Amy staring into the gray eyes of the terrifying man.

"Time for the great ceremony…" Natiskawa whispered.

She could smell the blood on Natiskawa. It was sickening. The entire shirt was drenched in it. Amy tried to scream but Natiskawa pushed her against the wall.

Amy's head hit the wall first and her body fell to the floor.

She smiled at the sight of the four unconscious bodies in the room. Natiskawa walked over and bent down to pick Amy's body in her arms.

"Time to welcome me home…" Natiskawa whispered. She smiled down as she carried Amy like a child in her strong, flexed arms.

Natiskawa walked into the hallway and disappeared out the foray and out the door. The great wind followed her and forced the apartment door to slam shut.

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Two chapters (I guess) are left! The conclusion of _Meant To Be_ is coming up! I hope everyone is enjoying!

Du-du-du (dramatic music) Amy has been taken…can the guys save her…du-du-du (more dramatic music)….okay, I'm done.

Reviews/feedback appreciated.

(I've already written down many ideas for my Christmas fic after this one is complete.)


	14. SOS

Chapter Fourteen

SOS

Sam felt the throbbing pain in his back and head when his eyes slowly opened. The apartment seemed foggy to him. He gritted his teeth as Sam was trying to fully wake up. There was so much pain in his head and back, Sam wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get up.

_Amy…_

He groaned as Sam slowly tried to use his arms to push himself off the carpet. Sam had apparently fallen on his stomach.

There was a stinging pain on the side of his temple – Sam knew he had been wounded – drops of blood slowly crawled down the side of Sam's face.

"_Dean…"_ Sam grumbled weakly. Falling into the street had been bad. This was so much worse.

"_Dean…"_ Sam moaned again. The younger sibling was finally on his knees. He turned slowly – movement made his heard hurt even more.

He moved across the floor and came to Dean's side. His brother was on his back, his arm over his chest with the other sprawled out beside him.

Sam gently tapped the side of Dean's head. "Dean…" Sam tried again. He continued to tab his brother's head and shoulder.

His hazel eyes slowly fluttered opened. Dean felt a rush of pain in his back too. "_Gah_…" Dean moaned painfully. "Dammit…"

Sam helped his brother sit up and Dean rubbed his sore neck.

"Dean, Amy's gone…" Sam informed sadly.

Dean, more alert now, met his brother's worried gaze. He forced himself up and Sam helped him. The two young men wobbled at first, adjusting to consciousness, and as Sam went to go check on Michael, Dean weakly ran across the apartment and out the door.

O.O.O.O.O.

In the main hallway of the top floor, Dean ran to the window that showed the parking lot. He weakly grabbed hold of the windowsill and studied the parking lot.

The white mini cooper was gone.

O.O.O.O.O.

Michael sat up slowly with Sam's help. The doctor touched the back of his head and groaned.

"Amy…" Michael breathed slowly. He took exhaled and muttered again, "_Amy_…"

"She's gone…" Sam said dryly.

Dean rushed back inside the apartment.

"She took Amy…her car too…" Dean gave the details.

Sam looked up and his nose flared. "How are we going to find her? We have to get her back…Natiskawa is going to kill her."

Michael, looked at each brother, and quickly got to his feet.

Dean looked at Michael and snapped, "You believe now?"

There was a melancholy expression on his face. Michael knew it was all real now. It was so unbelievable. He kept silent and Michael looked down at the carpet sadly.

"It's almost ten-thirty…" Sam gestured. "I don't know how much time we have – we don't know where to look…"

There was a silent buzz. Michael and the others heard it. Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled out his vibrating cell phone.

"It's the hospital…" Michael whispered. He answered. "Hello…I'm sorry yes…_wait-what_…HOW!" Michael boomed into the cell phone. "How many…eight…oh my God…okay…thank you…"

He quickly hung up and Michael turned to the brothers. "Eight children were taken from the cancer ward earlier this evening."

O.O.O.O.O.

Chlorine. The smell, including blood, crawled into her nose in the harshest way. Her face was sore. Amy's cheek had apparently been stuck to the ground for hours.

Her wrists were bound. She felt the tight, thin rope wrapped around her hands, wrists, and ankles. Her head hurt so much. Her back and side too.

Amy gulped down the dry air and tried to open her eyes.

It was dark, but there was some light for her to see. Amy rolled to her painless side and saw that a few inches away from her was a swimming pool.

Her eyes gazed more around her scenery. There were two pools. The stadium-sized place had a gym enclosed in a glass room at the end of the natatorium.

She painfully rolled onto her back and took in a deep breath. Her bound wrists went up to her head and Amy felt and touched blood across her forehead.

Her mouth could taste the chlorine. It was sickening. Amy could see that one of the pools had a pale green diving board.

She turned to her side again. The pool was obviously closed. The only light came in through the bottom of the two pools. Amy's eyes slowly gazed at the clear blue water. The surface was completely flat and untouched.

There was a noise. A small, quiet cry. Amy rolled onto her side again and arched her head to the second pool that was several feet away from her.

In the aisle between the two pools, Amy found a group of children huddled and tied together with the same type of white rope that contained Amy.

The eight children were all wearing the same type of white nightgowns. Amy finally recognized them as hospital attire. Most of them were girls – there were three boys. Half of the children were bald while the others just had short hair. The girls and boys kept close together. They couldn't be older than nine. The children were crying and sobbing. Amy came to the conclusion the children had been patients at the hospital – children with cancer.

"They shall make a great feast once I have come back to full power," a voice harshly spoke.

Amy turned her head and saw Natiskawa standing above her.

The man was smiling down at her, the entire front of his shirt was stained in blood.

"_They're sick_…" Amy begged. Her voice cracked. "Let them go…"

Natiskawa smiled. "They may be sick…but they're _pure_…they're _young_…after they witness my return…they shall suffice my hunger for life. And this way is better…they are dying anyway…"

"Zoë…Carolina…what about the others!" Amy screamed. "They didn't deserve to die…these children don't deserve the same fate…"

The bloodied body bent down toward Amy. She tried to move away but found she was in too much pain to back away.

Natiskawa placed a hand on Amy's forehead and stroked her hair. "I can not complete myself until the day changes...at midnight…I shall reign in this world and _come down on it like rain_."

Amy's nose flared in anger.

Just smiling, Natiskawa responded, "Too bad you won't be around to see it."

O.O.O.O.O

Michael had a First-Aid kit out. He attached a white, square bandage on the side of Sam's head. The bandage was hidden away by Sam's shaggy hair once it was finished.

"Thanks," Sam muttered.

He turned to Dean who was sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.

"Dean, are you hurt at all?" Michael asked weakly.

Dean looked up and shook his head. "We have to find her…I just don't know how…"

Michael turned to Sam and asked, "Can't you find her…with your mind or…power?"

Sam didn't respond. Instead, he leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes.

He looked at the two of them and Michael tried, "We have to contact the police…"

"So what…" Dean snapped sarcastically. "They can come…we can tell them Amy was just randomly kidnapped…they'll find it odd when they find out we were the ones who brought in Zoë Brooks' body earlier today…and how are they going to find her in time…huh?"

"He…well, _she_…she took Amy's car!" Michael shouted back. "This, Natiskawa or whoever, we can give the license place ID to the authorities-"

"And when they find her…it'll be too late…" Dean muttered.

"Dean," Sam pleaded. "We can't just sit around; we have to do something…"

"Like what!" Dean shouted angrily. He slammed his fist on the black center table.

"Natiskawa has Amy…and the children…and for all we know she's performing her coming-back-to-life party _right now_…"

Sam got up from the couch and left the living room. He went into the hallway and Dean heard Sam go into the guestroom.

Minutes later, Sam came back into the living room with a photo in his hand.

He sat down in the large, cushion chair. Sam stared down at the picture and showed it to Dean.

The image showed Sam and Jessica. Sam was wearing a brown hoodie and Jessica wore a long, pink trench coat. The young woman was on Sam's back and her legs dangled around his waist. The young couple was smiling.

Sam looked down at the picture and rubbed the image with his thumb.

"_Please Jessica…"_ Sam begged softly. _"Help us."_

Sam closed his eyes and brought the picture to his lips.

Sam tried to picture Amy. He remembered first seeing her in her class – wearing the black skirt and pinkish-red dress shirt. He imagined her hair and the color of her eyes. Her smile. Her voice.

"_Please baby…Jessica…help us…"_ Sam pleaded again. He focused hard on Amy. His hand was trembling as he held the photo close to his lips.

Dean watched his brother sadly and felt a pang of agony in his heart. He couldn't help but look at Michael…his lips were trembling but he was trying to stop it.

_We lost our mom. Sam lost his girl. And now we're about to lose a friend…and Michael is about to lose his girl too_…Dean thought sadly. _Jessica…please…help us…_

Dean suddenly felt angry with his father. _Why couldn't you warn us…why couldn't you warn Amy…Amy was the "key" you left behind, wasn't she Dad? _

O.O.O.O.O.

_Dean…Sam…Michael…_

Amy could see a small black-and-white clock against the greenish-brick walls.

_Eleven-ten…_

The children's sobs were agonizing. She wanted to get up and help but her body was still in so much pain. She started to remember when her body was brought to the pool…Natiskawa had dropped by the side of the pool…she had woken up at the new pain…and then the wind came down at her and Amy was knocked unconscious again.

So much pain.

_And I'm going to die…and these children…_

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was still in the praying-position. He continued to grip the photo tight in his hands.

Dean was out on the balcony with Michael.

Both men were looking into the night. They knew it would be about fifty minutes until the new day came…and Amy might not live to see it.

_She has to be alive…_Dean thought. _Sam would know if she was dead…and he hasn't gotten a vision or anything of her death…Amy has to be alive…_

Michael had his hands gripped on the metal banister.

"She's alive…I know it…Amy's a fighter…" Michael thought hopefully.

Dean nodded and said, "She can kick major ass. Of course she's alive. Sam will get something soon and we'll find out where she is. And we'll find her, save her, and destroy that Egyptian princess-bitch."

Michael nodded and he turned sadly to Dean.

"Amy told me you two were best friends in high school…you avoided a real future for _all this_…?" Michael asked.

Dean shook his head. "This _is_ my future. It was my past…present…and it is _my future_. There are things in this world that shouldn't exist…and my family is the one protecting people from those things."

Michael slowly nodded. "Will Amy be _different _after all this is over…"

He didn't look at the doctor. Dean kept his gaze up at the sky and stars.

"Let's focus on saving Amy first."

O.O.O.O.O.

_Eleven-thirty…_

Strength. She felt it coming back to her. Amy tried not to show her joy that her legs and arms were now properly functioning.

Amy's head turned when she heard the squeals of the children.

Natiskawa was near the children. They were screaming at the sight of the bloody shirt.

"Get away from them!" Amy screamed. Natiskawa didn't turn around. "You pathetic little bitch! Get away from them NOW! I swear to God, if you hurt them-"

The wind pushed Amy across the floor and she hit the bottom of the bleachers that were set up against the wall.

The contact with the metal bleachers didn't help matters.

"Oooh," Amy crooned weakly, feeling the pain in her back grow. "You have your stupid, spooky wind doing all the work for you? Wow, that's pathetic…even when you're in a man's body…you're still _shit_!"

She rarely cursed. She barely ever used words like that. But it was catching the attention of Natiskawa fast.

Amy smiled weakly when she saw Natiskawa turned and looked at her angrily.

"You were _shit_ then…" Amy shouted loud enough for her to hear. "And you're still _shit_ now."

The wind came back again. Amy felt her body rise from the wet floor and Amy flew across to the side of the pool. She didn't land in the cold water but right by the pool's edge.

"Aghhh," Amy cried out painfully, feeling pain growing in her arm now.

Natiskawa smiled.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam still had his eyes closed when Dean and Michael came back into the apartment. Dean closed the glass balcony doors.

Michael came to Sam's side and asked desperately, "Have you found anything yet?"

He opened his eyes slowly and shook his head. "I'm sorry," Sam whispered. "I'm not getting anything."

Sam dropped the photo on the table and stood up.

The men stood in a triangular shape and stared at one another.

"It's eleven-thirty…at midnight…we'll contact the authorities…maybe then it won't be too late…" Dean offered.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sam was in the bathroom with the door opened just a few centimeters. He splashed water against his face and cheeks.

His head hung low in the sink.

_Amy, geez, please be okay…_

Sam looked into the mirror and stared at his dismayed reflection. He had this power…_why couldn't he use it?_

The water was running slowly against his hands. Sam looked down and splashed more water into his face.

He turned the water off and kept his head down as he reached for the towel beside him. Sam cleaned his face quickly and straightened his posture in front of the mirror.

His mouth dropped.

Behind him, standing in front of the tub, Sam saw the reflection of Jessica.

He turned wildly around and found no one was in the bathroom with him.

Sam turned back to the bathroom mirror.

"_Jessica…"_ Sam whispered.

She didn't look like the ghostly figure he saw in his dreams. Jessica was standing there, being beautiful, looking alive…

"_Sam…"_ her ghostly voice echoed.

"Jessica, please help…we have to find Amy…" Sam pleaded.

Jessica placed her hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked down but saw no hand there. He felt no hand there. His eyes went back to the mirror.

She smiled wonderfully at him. _"Sam…"_ she whispered. _"Go to the Evanston Natatorium."_

O.O.O.O.O.

Natiskawa was dragging Amy across the wet floor of the pool area by her bound wrists. Amy grunted in the pain through her arms.

Her boots' heels were scraping across the floor.

Amy's body dropped in the aisle in-between the two pools. She could see the children were more terrified now.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean, Sam, and Michael were in the guestroom quickly taking weapons with them. Dean and Sam held onto their handguns while Michael carefully held onto a shotgun.

"Let's go," Sam ordered.

O.O.O.O.O.

The three young men ran down the many steps of the apartment and finally came out in the parking lot. Dean jumped in the driver seat and Sam got into the front. Michael followed and quickly jumped into the back seat.

The black Impala took off out of the parking lot and into the main road.

O.O.O.O.O.

The two poles that stuck out at the two pools' corners had rope tied to them that was now bound to Amy's wrists and ankles.

There was no way she could move around now.

_Eleven-forty-five…_

"LET ME GO!" Amy screamed.

Natiskawa was standing by the pool. She reached into the pockets of the black dress pants and instead of pulling out the small Swiss army knife, Natiskawa pulled out a large kitchen knife.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean sped into the parking lot of the Evanston Natatorium.

The three young men got out of the car and quickly ran to the front entrance.

The glass doors were locked.

"We need to find another way in…we break the glass…an alarm might go off…" Sam informed quickly.

Michael tapped Sam's arm and pointed the end of the shotgun at what he was looking at.

The side door of the pool was opened a crack.

O.O.O.O.O.

"My dear Magi…" Natiskawa whispered gently. She was advancing on Amy slowly.

"You gave me the chance to live again…your spirits have protected me for so long…" she said slowly. "Seven have died…they have given me power and life…and now with the final one…blood shall spill and I shall be flesh and blood once more…"

She turned to the children. Natiskawa continued, "May these young lives witness the power within…"

Natiskawa was now right beside Amy's body.

She flinched at the sight of the clean blade and Amy started to scream. "God! HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP!"

She held the blade in the air with both hands. Natiskawa smiled down at Amy and muttered, "_Anhuh taka setwi ronya giy dalynubis…"_

"NO!" Amy screamed as she saw Natiskawa ready herself to plunge the blade into Amy's stomach.

There was a loud _boom!_ and Amy shielded her eyes as Natiskawa's body was suddenly flying back and it fell into the second pool.

Amy turned her heard and cried out, "HEY! SOS! SOS!"

Michael, holding the shotgun tight in his grip, took in a deep breath after taking the shot at Natiskawa.

Dean, Sam and Michael came to Amy's side and quickly started to untie her.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked worriedly.

Amy nodded and said, "Sort of. Is she dead?"

Sam turned to the pool…the top part of the water's surface was red.

"Hopefully…let's move fast…" Sam inquired.

Dean took a small knife from the inside of his jacket and started to cut at the rope around Amy's wrists and ankles.

"Good to see you guys are okay…" Amy sighed happily. She was so happy to see the three young men at her aid…but there was no time to show her excitement.

Dean cocked his head and said, "A couple of bruises and scratches."

"LOOK!" Michael shouted.

The four looked and saw Natiskawa's bloody body crawling up the side of the pool.

Sam took out the gun from his inside pocket and pointed it at Natiskawa.

Suddenly, Sam's gun…Dean's gun…and Michael's shot gun were ripped from their hand by the evil wind.

"Well that's not good…" Dean muttered.

Natiskawa, the man's body drenched in blood, stared angrily at the four people.

The children were screaming and crying.

Michael took the initiative and ran toward the children.

Natiskawa simply waved her hand and suddenly Michael slipped while running to the children. The loud crack was the sound of Michael's knee snapping in the wrong place.

"Michael!" Amy cried out worriedly.

Amy, now untied, got up with Dean and Sam.

Michael, groaning in pain, used his arms to pull himself to the children.

"It's okay…" he muttered to them, his hand clutching his broken knee. "It's okay…"

Some of the children began to cling to the doctor.

Something began to happen…

The man's body started to have what looked like a seizure while standing up.

Dean and Sam looked oddly at what was happening while Amy narrowed her eyes.

The man's body, after having its episode, fell limp to the floor.

It would have been amazing to think that Natiskawa was dead, but instead Dean, Sam and Amy looked at the transparent figure standing next to the dead body.

The woman wore brownish rags across her lower body like a skirt; she had the same material draped across her shoulders and over her breasts. She had dark, tanned skin and small brown eyes. The woman had thick, black hair that reached down to her back.

They stared at the ghost of the Egyptian princess.

"_We're not done…"_ she whispered, her voice echoing throughout the building. _"You destroyed my vessel…I shall return the favor…"_

Amy stuck her hand into her pocket and felt the artifact at her fingertips.

"_Now I am just spirit. All I have to do is kill the girl and I shall live again…you can't kill someone who is already dead…"_ Natiskawa hissed.

Amy pulled the artifact out of her pocket and kept the folded piece of papyrus tight in her grip. She understood now…

"You're worthless…" Amy whispered.

"Amy…" Dean and Sam warned.

Amy took a step forward, standing in front of the guys.

"You weren't loved when you were alive…the people of the twenty-first century are going to hate you like you were hated back then…you're absolutely nothing…"

"Amy…" Sam warned again.

Natiskawa, her ghostly figure grinned, waved her see-through hand and Dean and Sam flew backward and landed on their backs.

"_KILL ME!"_ Amy screamed. "You stupid hag! No wonder the pharaoh denied you so much. You're as pretty as the wicked witch of the west…and obviously you lack the intelligence to live in our world…"

"Amy!" Dean cried out.

Amy's body was now lifted into the air like a rocket. Her body flew all the way to the ceiling, and to Sam and Dean's horror, watched as her small body hit the metal ceiling hard.

"AMY!" Dean shouted. "NO!"

The image was frightening. The children were screaming and crying. Michael was staring at the ceiling horrified. Sam's eyes were watering – no words or yells could escape his dry mouth.

Amy's body came back down.

"AMY!" Dean shouted again. "NO!"

Her body fell onto the wet floor.

Dean and Sam scrambled across the floor and went to Amy.

_No no no no no no no…_Dean thought as he held Amy's limp body in his arms. He cradled her like a child and rested his hand underneath her neck and head.

Her beautiful brown eyes were wide opened. Sam took Amy's hand and found the artifact still in her grip.

_No no no no no…she's just knocked out…she'll be okay…_Sam thought.

"_AMY!" _Dean screamed wildly. "Come back please…"

"Amy…" Sam whispered. "Christ…no…"

Dean continued to hold onto Amy's lifeless body. Sam clutched to her arm and he put her hand into his.

"Amy…" Sam repeated. His voice was sore and hoarse. "Amy…no…"

"Amy…" Dean begged. _Come back…come back…dammit come back! _"Amy…" Dean repeated. "Amy…Amy…Amy…"

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: two chapters left


	15. Meant To Be

Chapter Fifteen

Meant To Be

_They were staring at Mary Winchester's grave. Dean and Amy were standing side by side with Sam standing in-between them. Amy's arm was draped around the younger brother's shoulder while her eyes stared sadly at Dean._

_Seventeen-year-old Dean sighed gruffly and tried to fight the tears that were forcing their way through. But Dean was too strong for that._

_Sam, the young teenage boy, reached up and gripped Amy's comforting hand. Amy returned the small squeeze and sighed._

"_I can't believe it's been thirteen years…" Dean mumbled._

_Amy nodded. She looked at Dean sadly and bit her lower lip. She was trembling._

_She had to place both hands on Sam's shoulders. _

_Sam, scratched his head that was matted with short brown hair, and asked Dean, "Do you miss her?"_

"_Of course, Sammy," Dean replied dryly._

_Amy, her short brown hair blowing against the wind, took her other hand and placed it around Dean's arm._

_The punk of their high school and looked down at her graceful embrace. Dean gave Amy a weak smile._

_She smiled back at him in that friendly-lovingly way._

"_I can't believe Dad's not here…" Sam muttered angrily._

_Dean placed a hand on Sam's free shoulder. "Dad's working. He'll be back on Wednesday."_

"_He's never here…" Sam whispered sadly. "Everyone I care about is going to leave me."_

_Dean bit his lip, trying to find the right words._

_Amy quickly moved her body around Sam and knelt down in front of him. She took his hands into hers and comforted, "The people you love are always with you. No matter what. Even in death. You understand, kiddo? The people we truly love…they never leave us…never…"_

O.O.O.O.O.

_Amy…Amy…Amy…okay…you're just unconscious…we'll get the police and ambulance here and maybe Doctor Michael can help you…you're okay…_

"Dammit, Amy!" Dean screamed at her unmoving body. He had begun CPR.

His lips pressed against her cold mouth as he blew air into her.

"Dean…" Sam choked out. Tears were filling his eyes and if he tried to speak too much…he knew he would break out into a sob. "Dean…"

"It's okay Sammy…she's okay…" Dean whimpered as he blew more air into her mouth.

Her lips felt like ice.

"Dean…" Sam forced out of his mouth, "you…you _heard_ her neck…_it_…_you heard it snap_…"

"SHUT UP SAM!" Dean growled.

His eyes were slightly red and flood with tears, but they couldn't fall from its surface.

"Please, Amy…_please_…" Dean begged.

Her black hoodie was somewhat wet from the floor. The sleeve was hanging off her shoulder, showing one of the straps of her tank top.

Dean, with Amy in his arms, reached up and pulled the shoulder back to where it should be.

There was a sudden evil cackle in the background.

Dean didn't turn his head, but Sam watched as the spirit of Natiskawa – now less transparent, and more of a solid-ghost phase – was laughing.

"_How sad…"_ Natiskawa hissed. _"Four minutes until midnight…I say my chant…and you shall welcome me into your realm…"_

Dean continued to hold Amy in his arms.

She couldn't be dead.

His head turned and he stared at Natiskawa with an evil glare.

"You're _not_ coming into our world…" Dean hissed. "We'll make sure of that…"

"_You also said you would protect and save the damsel in distress…and now…"_ She was laughing more now.

Natiskawa quickly raised her tanned arm in the air and suddenly Amy's body was taken away from Dean's grasp.

He tried to reach for her. "AMY! _GIVE HER BACK_!" Dean shouted as he leapt for the body but caught air.

The body was thrown into the pool.

"AMY!" Sam cried out. He and Dean were now on their feet. They weren't sure of what to do: go and swim for Amy's body…or run at the dead girl…

"You really are pathetic…" Sam murmured.

"_And you're about to be dead…"_ Natiskawa echoed. Her arm was out-stretched in front of her.

Dean and Sam watched as a small orb of black smoke began to form above her palm.

"That's what she uses to kill…" Sam warned.

"She's not killing anyone else tonight…" Dean hissed.

The black orb formed larger into the size of a softball. Quickly, Natiskawa threw the orb at the brothers. It came flying fast toward them – Dean and Sam both jumped to the side near the bleachers. Luckily, they had dodged it.

"That's the best you got, Nakasaky?" Dean mocked loudly. "Why don't u get some of that wind to help – it kicks more ass than u can, pussy."

Natiskawa glared angrily at Dean's direction. Another orb was forming in the palm of her hand.

"_Die…boy…"_ Natiskawa snapped.

But before she had a chance to throw the black orb, it disappeared right in the middle of her hand. Natiskawa stared down at her empty hand – eyes wide and mouth opened.

"_How…"_ Natiskawa asked herself.

Natiskawa whirled around.

Dean and Sam, back on their feet, were looking at Natiskawa. In awe, they stared at who Natiskawa was staring at…

_Amy…_

Was it really her? She had been thrown into the pool…but she wasn't wet.

"Amy…" Sam gasped happily.

"Amy…" Dean repeated. His heart was filling with immediate joy.

Amy, apparently dry, looked beautiful. Her skin had color once more. Her hair was gently tossed to the side. Amy's hands were in the pockets of her black hoodie.

"_You're dead…"_ Natiskawa screamed.

"_So are you…"_ Amy replied.

To Dean and Sam's horror…they realized Amy was indeed dead. Her voice was an echo. Her whisper was wind. They weren't looking at Amy…they were looking at her ghost…

She moved like a ghost too. She moved closer to Natiskawa, but instead of taking an actual step she was just suddenly standing in front of her.

It reminded Sam of the Woman in White, the way she moved.

Amy's head was slowly focused on Natiskawa, but then her gaze was suddenly on Sam and Dean. Neither of them saw her turn her head.

"Amy…" Sam whispered sadly.

"_It's okay…"_ Amy's ghost whispered. _"Dean…Sam…the artifact…"_

The two brothers looked down at the floor where Amy's body had been earlier. Right beside the pool was the artifact – a circle of a blood stain was visible to them.

"_Burn it…"_ Amy ordered quickly. _"I'll take care of Natiskawa…"_

Amy's eyes were now back on Natiskawa.

"_MAGI!"_ Natiskawa let out a shrill scream. She was calling onto the wind.

"_Sorry,"_ Amy replied, the two ghosts seeing Natiskawa had no assistance. _"My own protector is taking care of your precious Magi guardian-wind…you're mine…"_

Natiskawa turned wildly around to see Sam reaching for the artifact down on the floor.

"_NO!"_ Natiskawa screamed. She was about to wave her hand but Amy stuck her ghostly hand into the woman's back.

Natiskawa shouted in the cold pain. Amy's fingers were inside of Natiskawa's back.

_One minute to midnight…_

"_Hurry, burn it!"_ Amy shouted.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his silver lighter. He quickly tossed it to Sam and the younger brother caught it midair. He quickly played with the black switch and a flame arouse from the metal top.

The corner of the artifact was brought down on the tiny flame.

"_NO!"_ the Egyptian princess screamed.

The artifact was half on fire. Dean and Sam looked to see Natiskawa's ghost having her own episode. Her arms and legs were bending in odd ways and her eyes were glowing black.

"_NO!"_

Her screams continued to fill the air.

Michael, who was partially out of it, held two children in his arms as he watched everything.

Dean, Sam, and everyone else in the room shielded their eyes with their arms or clothing once Natiskawa's body broke apart into bright black sparks.

Dean quickly unshielded his eyes and found Natiskawa was gone.

Amy too.

The room was silent at first. The light continued to glow from the bottoms of the pools.

"_It's over…"_ Dean murmured. _"She's gone…"_

"Amy…" Sam whispered.

"We'll get her body, Sammy," Dean comforted. His hands were balled into fists at his side. _Amy…Amy…I'm sorry…_

But it wasn't what Sam meant.

Dean looked at his brother's tired, worn face. His eyes were wide and his lips were slowly curving into a smile.

"Amy!" Sam cried out happily.

He turned and Dean noticed a small figure coming up to the pool's surface.

Amy's wet arms reached out of the pool.

Sam and Dean were quickly at the pool's side.

"Amy…" Michael whispered to himself, watching what was taking place.

Her black hoodie was draped across her shoulder and neck. She was obviously having difficulty grabbing onto the side of the pool. Amy was coughing and breathing desperately for air. There were several sobs that came along with her wheezes.

Dean bent down and reached into the pool. His great hands reached underneath her arms and he pulled her out slowly.

Sam gently took hold of Amy's legs as her body was being pulled up.

Finally, Dean had Amy's upper body in his arms while Sam gently straightened out Amy's legs straight.

Her hair was wet and strands were stuck to her cheeks and forehead.

Sam huddled opposite Dean to Amy. He bent down, close to her face, and whispered happily, "You're alive!"

"No," Amy coughed, water still spurting from her lips. _"I'm Amy."_

His laugh allowed Sam's tears to slowly roll down his cheeks. Sam leaned down and joyfully kissed her forehead. He stared sadly at the wound on her forehead and touched it gently. "We'll get an ambulance ASAP."

Amy, terribly weak, nodded.

"I saw Mary…and Jess…" Amy slowly coughed out.

Dean and Sam narrowed their eyes at her.

"They held onto me…they made sure I didn't go into their plane…"

"Amy, what?" Sam asked slowly.

"I saw your mom first…she had her hand on my shoulder…and then Jessica…she was on my other side, her hand on my shoulder too…they said they were keeping me from completely dying…it wasn't my time…it w-wasn't my t-time…"

The soaked hoodie around her kept the cold water into her skin. Sam helped to quickly unzip the hoodie and Dean and he both slowly removed the black hoodie.

Sam removed her brown jacket and quickly rested it across Amy's upper torso. Her body was slightly shaking and she continued to take in deep breaths.

"I saw them…_I talked with them_…" Amy muttered quickly. "They said they haven't cr-crossed over yet…they have to stay to protect you…your dad too…and me now…"

"Sshhh…" Dean whispered with a smile. "Tell us later."

Amy, finally looking up at Dean, gave a small smile.

Tears were now slowly glistening Dean's cheeks. His eyes continued to fill with pools of the salty substance.

Amy, tears filling her eyes as well, reached up slowly and touched Dean's face.

"Hey…" Amy whispered.

Dean let out a breath and smiled. His tears began to flow more frequently down his face.

Dean and Sam both leaned down and hugged Amy.

Amy closed her eyes and smiled as she was embraced.

Sam, slowly pulling away, rested his hand on Amy's forehead.

"I'll be right back…I'll go check on Michael and the kids…" Sam offered. Amy simply nodded back.

It took him a minute to get up and leave Amy's gaze.

When Sam left to check Michael and the children, Amy turned her head back to look at Dean.

He kept his wet body tight in his arms. There were wet spots on his black T-shirt. Her head was cradled by his shoulder while his hand was reached around her and slowly stroking her wet hair.

"So, it's just you and me now, cowboy…" Amy whispered sorely.

Dean, wiping his moist face, smiled and replied, "Hey gorgeous…"

His hand slipped into hers. She took in his grasp and smiled. His finger was stroking the top of her hand.

"How'd you know…" Dean tried to find the words. "I mean…"

"My blood was on the artifact…" Amy explained slowly. "I-I just _knew_…I can't explain it…I knew that I had a connection with Natiskawa…and your mom…and Jessica…they explained _so much_ to me…so I knew what to do…they're _so proud_ of the two of you…"

Dean smiled and nodded. He squeezed her hand and continued to look down at her.

O.O.O.O.O.

Red and blue lights filled the sky. There were five cop cars and two ambulances. There was a white van parked in between all of them – transportation of the cancer patients.

Amy, wearing Sam's jacket, leaned against one of the ambulances. Her still-wet head rested on the emergency vehicle as she happily watched all eight children safely piled into the white van.

One of the children, a girl with short blonde hair, smiled and waved at Amy before the door closed on her.

She slowly waved back and smiled as she watched the van leave the parking lot of the natatorium.

Her eyes went across the parking lot, gazing at the second ambulance.

Michael was on a stretcher. Paramedics were tending to his legs and the flashing lights and sirens were a sign that he would be taken to the hospital immediately.

His body was put into the back of the ambulance. The doors closed and Amy couldn't see him any more.

The second emergency vehicle departed the parking lot and Amy was left to stare after the flashing lights.

Dean and Sam, leaving a conversation with a police officer, came walking over to Amy.

"You guys okay?" Amy asked.

"The other paramedics checked us. We're good. How about you? Do you need to sit and rest-" Sam started.

Giggling, Amy shook her head and said, "I'm fine."

Dean gulped and informed Amy, "Well, the police officer identified the body that Natiskawa had possessed…he's wanted in five states for multiple burglaries and two accounts of rape."

She wasn't sure how to respond. Instead, Amy just shook her head and dropped the subject.

Sam turned his head and saw the second ambulance disappear down the street.

"Is Michael on his way to the hospital?" Sam asked.

Amy nodded slowly. "I heard the paramedics say his knee was almost shattered. He'll be in the hospital for a while…" She paused for a moment. "I don't think he handled tonight well…"

"You should have seen him, Amy," Dean weakly admitted. "He umm, well, he took on the hero persona tonight…he wanted to save you as much as we did…"

She bit her lower lip and Amy sighed.

Dean and Sam looked at Amy sadly. Sam took a step forward and wrapped his arm around Amy's shoulder.

"Well, this has been a fun visit," Sam whispered before kissing Amy's head.

Amy laughed and leaned against Sam and wrapped her arm around his waist.

The three then began to walk away from the ambulance side by side. Amy, her arm still around Sam, quickly reached beside her and grabbed Dean's arm.

The trio disappeared from the flashing lights and headed to their cars.

O.O.O.O.O.

Sunday had come with no great excitement.

Amy remained in bed, gathering her strength and resting after what happened that night. Dean and Sam were eager to hear what Amy saw and learned from barely crossing over the other side. She had talked to their mother and she had talked with Jessica.

The news reported the great details of the end of the Egyptian murders. Amy, Dean, Sam, and Michael were named and labeled as heroes of the whole situation.

There was no word from Michael. Sunday evening Amy went to see him but he had requested he see no visitors.

Dean and Sam tried talking to Amy several times that day. They both knew Amy had gone through a traumatic experience.

She had been willing to die to save them all. She almost did die.

And now there were several worries about Amy: Could she handle being a psychic? And will she lose her guy because of it?

O.O.O.O.O.

_Monday…_

The white mini cooper and the black Impala were parked beside Northwestern University.

The morning was crisp and the sun had gone from orange to yellow now. The cool breeze flew above the students as they walked into the great building.

Sam, Amy and Dean stood in a triangle in the courtyard talking.

Students were talking amongst themselves – word had gotten out about Professor Saton's attack and Professor Cromwell's heroic actions. Everyone also learned the news of what happened two nights earlier.

Two days had brought so much. Especially to Amy. But she continued to smile and be brave and not complain about it.

Amy was now wearing the usual professor-attire. She instead wore jeans, black Stilettos, and a pink-and-white plaid sweater with a light pink tank top underneath.

Dean and Sam were in their regular clothes: Dean wore denim jeans, his biker boots, a brown T-shirt with his leather jacket; Sam wore a blue hoodie with his brown jacket atop of it along with faded jeans and brown boots.

Her hair blew against the wind and Amy took a deep breath and inhaled the cold air.

"Do you guys really have to leave?" Amy pouted. She childishly pursed her lips and gave them the puppy-dog eyes.

Sam smiled and combed his shaggy brown hair with his fingers. "We gotta get back on the road."

"More baddies to be killed," Dean smiled.

Amy nodded and stuck her hands into the back of her pockets.

"Sam, walk with me a bit?" Amy asked.

Sam turned to Dean and then back to Amy. "Sure."

Dean pointed his thumb back at the parking lot. "I'll make sure we're ready to leave."

Amy nodded and she and Sam walked the other way. Dean watched as the two left but then quickly left to go back to his car.

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy kept her arm around Sam's as the two crossed the grassy courtyard.

"I know you want to know happened…after I _sort-of_-died…" Amy explained.

Sam stopped shortly. He faced Amy and stuck his hands into his pockets.

"Sam, I'm sorry…" Amy began. "Your mom and Jessica…they don't know _what _killed them…"

He nodded his head slowly. The young man looked at his friend and asked weakly, "Why…wh-why is it that you have better contact with Jessica than me? And do they know what's happening to me…"

Amy looked at her friend sadly.

She motioned for the two of them to sit on a curb of a garden by the sidewalk. Amy and Sam sat down close together and Amy continued.

"You may not like to hear this…but Mary and Jessica told me something…they wanted me to let you guys know…that everything _happens for a reason_…everything is _meant to be_…"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. "They _were meant_ to die?"

"In a way," Amy replied sadly. "You see Sam…apparently…Mary and Jessica had to die…or they didn't really have to…it was their destiny…_death is inevitable_…I was able to come back because it's not my time yet. (I don't know when my time is.) But it's because of Mary's death that your father turned you and Dean into fighters…warriors…ghost busters…" Amy smiled. "And it was also because of your mom's death that led to the three of us being so close…so close as friends…and then Jessica died…and that led you to embrace everything you know…it's because of your father, because of Dean, and because of you that so many people are alive…"

"But Mom and Jess as a price?" Sam choked out sadly. He folded his hands into his lap.

Amy put her hand on his shoulder. "There's something else, Sam…something your mom and Jess were able to tell me…whatever it is that killed them…it's _obsessed _with _you_…"

Sam's head shot up. He looked at Amy and his eyes asked for more…

"You loved Jessica…you wanted to marry her…and this _thing_ knew that…that's why it took her from you…and your mom…Sam, don't you _remember_?" Amy paused and sighed. "Your mother died in _your nursery_…"

"It's my fault…" Sam blurted out.

"No," Amy protested. "It's not. Mary and Jessica wanted me to remind you of that. Look…your mom and Jessica are sticking around because that _thing_ is still out there…your mom has been looking out for your father and for the two of you…and Jessica is sticking around because she won't crossover until she knows that you're safe…and Jessica told me to tell you how much _she loves you_…and how much she wishes the two of you can be together…" Amy paused again. Sam was trying to be strong. "She wants you to know that she's glad you're trying to move on…and she wants you to…she wants you to fall in love again-"

"She was the _only one_, Amy," Sam murmured. "The only one…"

Amy gave Sam's shoulder a tight, comforting squeeze. "Listen to me kiddo…to you it seemed like I was gone for just a few minutes…but while I was…I learned a lot from your mom and Jessica…there are things they told me that I'm not going to tell you right now…once I figure stuff out for myself, I'll tell you everything that happened…but right now…sweetie, listen to me…you and Dean must know how much your mother loves you…and how proud she is of the both of you…and she wants you to be happy…and Jessica wanted me to tell two the same…you and Dean are brothers…you both need to stick together…

"They told me everything is meant to be…everything happens for a reason…there is a greater purpose out there, Sam…there is. You, Dean, and your father are going to figure out that great mystery. Soon…you'll be at peace and accept everything. That's why you need to keep fighting now. You'll figure out why all this is happening soon…"

Sam grinned slowly and leaned over and wrapped his arms around Amy. She returned the hug with a tight embrace and kissed Sam's cheek.

"And I am so proud of you too, kiddo…you're the man I'd always knew you'd be…but better…" Amy whispered.

She could feel his lower jaw turn into a smile.

When they pulled away, Sam asked, "So…you're not going to tell us what happened in the great beyond yet?"

She cocked her head and reached up to touch her friend's face. Amy replied, "When I figure everything out…everything Mary and Jessica told me…you'll be the first to know…"

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean had the back trunk opened as he threw his black duffel bag in. When he closed the metal top, his eyes found Amy slowly crossing the parking lot toward him.

"Don't tell me you killed Sammy," Dean laughed as the two came together by the car.

Amy, her hands in her back pockets, shrugged and said, "Sorry…Sam is walking around the campus a bit…giving himself a tour…"

She took a moment and stared at the car. "Which reminds me, I've yet to see this beauty."

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean sat in the driver's seat while Amy sat close beside him on the black leather cushion. Their arms touched as Dean pointed out every trinket and park of the vehicle.

"I have to hand it to you Dean, she's amazing…" Amy said, admiring the car.

He smiled at her and smoothly put his arm back on the seat – it was also at the same time draped around Amy's shoulder.

She noted his hand by her arm and Amy looked up at Dean. "Are you putting a move on me, Dean?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Dean replied, giving her that cocky grin. "I'm jus' stretchin'."

She let out a quiet laugh and her eyes went back to staring at the car.

Dean stared at her for a moment before asking, "Did you and Sam have a good talk?"

She turned to face him and said, "He'll explain it…"

He nodded his head and sighed.

Amy slowly reached her hand across Dean's lap and she took his hand into her own. He was surprised by this, but allowed his and her fingers to intertwine with one another.

"Thank you," Amy breathed slowly. She stared up at him and bit her lip. "You and Sam were my knights in shining armor."

"Well…" Dean admitted slowly. His eyes still looking down at their holding hands. "You weren't exactly the damsel in distress."

Amy sniffed a laugh and stroked her finger against the side of his hand.

Dean took a deep breath before slowly admitting, "You have no idea how scared I was…I saw you flying up to the ceiling and then you fell…I thought you were gone…"

She leaned her head back against his arm, Amy's chin resting on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean…" Amy whispered gently. Dean was finally able to look at her in the eye. "I promise you and Sam…I will _never_ leave you…no matter what happens…"

"The ones we love never leave us…" Dean remembered. "I need to keep that in mind…"

"I'm glad you guys came to see me…" Amy added quickly. "I'm glad John came too…I'm glad you guys came back into my life…you three helped me so much with all of this…supernatural stuff…"

Dean nodded and smiled. "So…umm…how's Michael?"

Amy sighed. "He hasn't returned my phone calls…I talked with his doctor and apparently Michael is going into surgery this afternoon. I'll see him later tonight…"

"Things will work out," Dean stated.

Her eyes met his. She didn't have a look of hope or doubt.

"I'm sure Michael was okay with what happened…I'm sure he can accept all this…"

Amy gave Dean's hand a slight squeeze without realizing it. "I don't think that's an issue anymore…"

Dean didn't understand what she meant by that. By instead he felt Amy lean more into him and he dropped his arm around her shoulder. Dean held her close beside him and placed his chin on her head.

O.O.O.O.O.

Dean and Sam stood in front of the car while Amy faced them.

"So, this is bon voyage…" Amy nodded. "You both have to write, call, email, text, or send or contact me in some way _every_ week so I know you guys are okay…"

"Will do," Sam offered. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Amy's shoulder. She hugged him back and closed her eyes. Sam quickly placed a kiss on her head since he was so much taller than her.

"Be safe, Sam," Amy warned gently. "This has been a fun visit."

The two pulled away and Sam smiled. "It was good seeing you Amy. We'll keep in touch."

Dean took a step forward and Amy came at him slowly. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders while Dean kept his large hands around her small waist. He held her tight against him and smiled.

"I'll be seeing you, Dean," Amy said sadly.

He looked down at her and said, "Stay out of trouble, Amy."

She nodded and then they pulled away.

The boys quickly gave Amy one final smile before Dean headed to the driver's side and Sam went to the passenger's.

They got into the car and slammed the door. The car's ignition was started and Amy watched with a small grin as the black Impala pulled out of the parking lot.

Her eyes stared into the car and gave Sam and Dean a small wave as the car drove into the street and their faces were out of sight.

O.O.O.O.O.

"Where to?" Dean asked, his hands gripped on the wheel.

"I dunno," Sam repeated slowly. His arm was by the window, relaxing, while his leg was propped up on the front of the car.

"Well c'mon, give me a destination," Dean snapped.

Sam chuckled and laughed, "I think someone's cranky because he didn't get as many kisses as _I_ did."

"Well," Dean mocked back, "I think someone's jealous because…h-he can't pull off wearing a leather jacket."

His brother smiled and let out a quiet laugh. Sam stared out the window and glanced at all the passing stores and shops and people walking down the sidewalks.

"It was good seeing her again," Sam simply said.

Dean, eyes on the road, relaxed his grip around the tire and said, "Yeah, it was."

O.O.O.O.O.

Amy walked down the university halls differently now. Instead of rushing to get to class she took the time to admire the beautiful wooden floors and the trophies and honors put into cases and shelves of glass on the walls.

She didn't appear to be a teacher, due to her casual attire, but instead took on the appeal of a college student.

Her smile was small but showed so much enthusiasm about the coming day.

She found herself walking into her classroom auditorium.

Students clapped and whistled for her – referring to her heroism earlier on the weekend.

Amy could _feel _what they felt. Some of the students actually admired her. Some were merely sucking up.

The professor gazed into their happy faces and expressions. Her outlook and perception was so different now.

But there were three people in the back who caught her attention. Amy smiled as she stared at those standing in the very back…

Mary, Jessica, and the little girl Zoë were smiling at her.

Zoë, giving Amy a cheerful wave, her body slowly disappeared into a gray, foggy mist.

No one else in the class could see the two women who remained there.

Except for Amy.

Amy smiled at the additions to her class and then her focus went to the students.

Everything was different now. She was different. Her life would be different from here on out. And she couldn't wait to see what would happen.

Everything happens for a reason. Everything is meant to be.

Amy, folding her hands in front of her, announced to the class, "Class, it's time we all start a new chapter."

O.O.O.O.O.

A/N: Well, that was the conclusion of _Meant to Be_! I hope you all enjoyed it and if you could, PLEASE everyone submit a comment to me giving me your honest opinions of the final chapter and the entirety of the story. I would really like honest feedback so I know I can fix some mistakes.

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! Please keep an eye out for my upcoming Christmas fic that will continue the _Meant To Be_ "series" (I call it a "series" now because I think the _Supernatural _fics I will write from now on will follow _Meant To Be_). Thank you all for your comments and happy holidays!


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